Disappointment
by JCL1371
Summary: This is the tale of Jeral of Candlekeep, a bard who struggles to meet the expectations of others as he enters out into the world beyond the castle walls.
1. Tournament Time

Disappointment

Prologue

_Greetings all! I am a huge BG fan and have really enjoyed reading all the fan fiction over the years. In fact I enjoyed some of them some much that I wanted to give it a try. In all the times I have played BG I have enjoyed playing bards and thieves most of all. So when it came to write a tale it came down to picking one of those options for the protagonist. The more I thought of it the more writing about a bard made more sense. Raised by one of the greatest wizards in the realm it felt natural that Jeral, despite his true parentage, could only fail to measure up to his father. Raised in a library fortress the paths of ranger and druid made no sense. And as a child of Baahl service as a cleric or paladin seemed impossible. _

_So this is my tale of Jeral the bard. I hope you like it._

_And like all other fan fiction, Jeral is mine. Everything else belongs to the fine folks at BioWare. _

Chapter 1: Tournament Time

"Have you lost your senses child?"

"No."

"This is the tournament for entry into the Order of the Watchers; the sacred guard force of the Candlekeep Library."

"I know that father; I do live here as well you know. In fact this has been my home since you brought me here as an infant."

"Well do you know that all of your opponents have been tested in battle? You have never fought a man in anger. And to make matters worse you are entering into a tournament today against seven heavily armed men wearing that. The thought process is not clear to me."

Jeral looked his attire up and down. Shrugging his shoulders he stared up at the great mage Gorion and smiled.

"What do you mean father? I have my armor, my shield and my weapon. All I lack is a helmet and you have said many times that vision is as much of a weapon as any blade."

Smiling Gorion looked down fondly on his adoptive son, "You remember what you want to remember. You always do. It is true that vision is one weapon, and it can be a powerful one. However, your shield and armor are also very important weapons, particularly in a test of close combat. I hardly think that a set of ill fitting studded leathers and a bucker qualifies as armor and a shield. Your opponents all are clad in metal armor of one sort or another, most have real shields unlike that pot lid you carry, and lastly they all have helms."

Jeral stared back determinedly at his father, "I wear more armor than you father; besides armor is expensive, this is all I could afford unless you want to spring for a nice set of chain mail."

Chuckling Gorion shook his head. "I will not spend my gold to encourage your poor decision. As for my need of armor I have none for I am a wizard, and modestly I can say I am a very good one at that, my boy. The arcane arts are the only weapon I need."

With a snap of his fingers a blue haze of energy surrounded Gorion. Jeral had no doubt that it made him impervious to harm.

"And you my son, despite my best efforts, only have a limited affinity for magic. Therefore, you need to master the skills of the warrior. The world is a dangerous place and you will need to protect yourself someday. I wish it was otherwise but you will need to be able to defend yourself. I cannot keep you hidden from those who search for you forever."

"You keep telling me that the world is a dangerous place. In all the years I have lived here in Candlekeep you have always worked to prepare me. All the studies, the physical exercise, the weapons training, it all must have some purpose, some meaning."

"It does child, the world is indeed a dangerous place and I fear that you will play a significant role in the near future."

"Role, what role?" Gorion signed deeply, and hesitated before answering.

"Well you could not have picked a worse time for this conversation but I suppose you are of an age where I can no longer delay responding. You are a man fully grown after all. Do you remember when a seer came to Candlekeep years ago when you were a small child?"

"Miss Muriella? Of course I remember her. She was really nice to me; she gave me sweets and played ball with me."

"Yes well, I had too much to drink with Winthrop one night while she was here visiting. Purely on a lark I decided to ask her for a reading. She saw that a great warrior would play a major role in my life."

"So? That could be anyone. "

"She said a warrior who was orphaned as a baby. That must be you."

"So is that why you pressured me to be a warrior?"

"I did no such thing!" Gorion's tone was heavy with indignation.

"Sure you did. Remember three summers ago when I wanted to be a Priest of Oghma? You stopped that from happening."

"Child, you must trust me when I say that you, of all people, should have as little to do with the Gods as possible even the God of knowledge."

"Well there are other options for a path father."

"Dare I ask what those options are?"

"I don't know, maybe I can be a thief."

"That is an evil, unscrupulous profession."

"So? I will be the first honest thief, I will break the mold."

"Stop this nonsense. Listen to your words, 'honest thief'? You are better than that. The way of the warrior is the right path for you. It has been foretold."

"Visions mean nothing, besides Imoen is developing the skills of a thief."

"Imoen should be a mage; she has far more magical talent than you. She just needs to focus and pay attention."

"So she can be a great mage and I can be a great thief."

"Child, not again with that thief nonsense, a child of mine will never stoop so low."

"But I am quick and agile and good with my hands."

"You are also quite strong, and skilled with the long bow, and numerous blades. You have the size and the constitution of the warrior. In fact you are already an accomplished archer; you may be the best in Candlekeep. Your skills with a sword continue to improve, however today you may find your limits tested."

"That may be true but I think I have the gift for something else. I could be a good warrior, but in my heart I know my path lies elsewhere."

"Then where does your true path lie child?"

"Well since thief is not an option and we have taken warrior and cleric off the table there is only one possible option."

"Pray go on Jeral."

Jeral clapped his hands together and smiled up on his father. "Well then we are in agreement, with no other option available I am left as I am. I will be Jeral the bard, ward of Gorion, resident of Candlekeep."

Gorion realized that Jeral had outsmarted him. The desire to be a thief was merely a distraction to get Gorion to focus all his energies on opposing that option. Gorion scowled and tossed his hands in the air.

"Bah! Bards are a waste of mankind. They are nothing but second rate fighters, third rate wizards, and nothing else. They are good for little more than entertaining drunks in taverns." Breaking into a smile Gorion softened his tone and lowered his voice.

"Besides, child, you have a terrible singing voice and cannot play any instrument."

"But I can dance father."

Laughing, Gorion had to agree. "True enough. You did learn that skill admirably well. You are amazingly coordinated and agile and the ladies will swoon to dance with you."

Gorion's voice hardened again as he shook his head.

"Jeral, you must understand, I have worked for nearly two score years to prepare you for the challenges ahead. You need to become powerful to survive. You have limited magical ability so you need to be a warrior. There was, and is, no other option."

"On that we will have to agree to disagree. Since you taught me how to read I have immersed myself in the tomes of this great library. I have read almost everything that Candlekeep has to offer. My knowledge of the library rivals that of Lore Master Ulrant himself. Over time I came to realize that many of the greatest tomes in this library were written by bards. Not only do I want to experience what the world has to offer, I want to chronicle it as well."

"Those books were no doubt written through an alcohol fueled haze of exaggeration and lies!"

"Bards live life and experience adventure. I have spent my life in a library! What else do you expect of me? I am strong and have trained in a wide variety of weapons. Thanks to you I am also intelligent, very well read, learned and trained in some level of magic. It seems a shame to not use all of my gifts." Jeral was red faced and talking through clenched teeth at an equally red faced wizard.

"Not again with this madness, you must have power to survive child. I fear that the list of powerful bards in the history of the realms in short indeed."

"Well it is my life and my decision father. And who knows? I may become the most powerful bard in the history of the realms." Jeral smiled suddenly and hugged his father. Gorion fiercely returned the hug.

In the background trumpets sounded and the pair reluctantly broke the embrace.

"I must go. The tournament is about to begin. Wish me luck."

"Be well child. Know that you must fight with your head as well as your sword. Watch your opponents carefully to determine their strengths and weaknesses. And no using cantrips in the duels, any use of magic is forbidden."

Jeral nodded and left the chamber excited that he was finally of age to enter the tournament.

The eight Watcher candidates stood in a circle on the practice field of Candlekeep. Hull, the gruff Sergeant of the guard, stood in the middle of the circle stroking his long handlebar mustache as he eyed each of the contestants in turn.

"Welcome to the tournament of the Watchers. As you know each spring after the last snows have melted we hold a tournament for all the warriors who desire entry into the Watchers. This year we have only one opening in the Watchers and that position will go to the warrior who wins the tournament."

A murmur spread through the ranks and the gathering crowd. In normal years there were two or three openings. This year would be a hard fought tournament as many of the young men were desperate to become a Watcher and enter into a profession that would allow for them to provide for their families. Jeral had no desire to join the Watchers; he just wanted the fighting experience so the news did not matter to him in the least. When Jeral won he planned to turn down the position and allow the second place fighter to take the position.

Jeral was in the second match. His opponent was Borpheus, a large man in his early 20s from a local village. Borpheus wore a worn suit of split mail and a winged closed face helm. He had gained a level of notoriety for his success helping to protect his village from a small band of marauders the prior summer. Rumors told how he singlehandedly slew a half dozen bandits and saved his village. Jeral remembered watching Borpheus fight in the prior year's tournament. In that tournament he lost in the first round. He was extremely strong and fought with a great two handed sword. But he was slow and left himself vulnerable to a quick counterattack in one was agile enough to take advantage.

Both men were introduced and led into the ring. Their weapons were tightly bound in stripes of leather and cloth to reduce the deadly threat to the combatants. Two priests of Oghma stood nearby, prepared to heal or raise the combatants as needed.

Hull stood between the two combatants. They saluted Hull and then one another. He quickly stepped aside and bellowed, "Begin!"

Borpheus bellowed and charged, holding his sword over his head. Jeral calmly sidestepped the headlong charge and swung horizontally striking the large man in his midsection. Borpheus grunted in pain as the padded sword struck against his splint mail. He finished his charge and whirled around to face Jeral.

"Point Jeral!" Hull shouted. The crowd roared in approval.

Borpheus swung wildly back and forth as he advanced on Jeral. Jeral slowly backpedaled and waited for his next opening. Borpheus took another great overhead swing and Jeral easily twisted out of the way. He waited until the sword bit into the soft soil of the pit. He then planted his left leg on the blade, leaned forward and launched a backhand horizontal swing at Borpheus. Jeral's sword connected with the man's upper chest and he let out a grunt of pain. Not letting up Jeral reversed his swing and smacked the long sword into the man's helm. His helm dented in and blood started to flow from the big man's helmet. Hull's shouts of point once and then again were quickly followed by a declaration of Jeral as the winner. Jeral quickly shook hands with Borpheus and retired to the shade. The clerics stepped in and tended to Borpheus as he made his plans to return to his village and prepare for the following year's tournament.

In round two Jeral was faced off against the oldest man in the tournament. Saman looked to be of late middle age and claimed to be a soldier who had served numerous campaigns with the Amnian army in the south. He was now the assistant blacksmith in Candlekeep. He was wearing well made plate mail and was armed with a bastard sword and medium sized shield. A closed face helm rested atop his head. As this was Saman's first tournament Jeral had never seen the man fight before. Saman's first round opponent was no challenge so Jeral had little information on his fighting style.

The two entered the ring and squared off against one another. After the requisite salutes the two combatants advanced on one another. Jeral attacked with an overhead swing that was easily defended. Saman made a few sword feints and Jeral countered with a few of his own. Jeral stabbed out with his sword and closed with Saman. Surprising Jeral, Saman turned sideways, pushed aside the strike with his shield and then shield punched Jeral. Jeral backpedaled as he saw stars and felt blood trickling down his face from his split lip and bloody nose.

"Point Saman."

"I bet a helm would be handy now child."

Through the pain Jeral could clearly hear Gorion's sarcastic voice carrying above the crowd.

Jeral was on the defensive as he recovered his vision and cleared his head. Jeral parried a few blows from the older man as he waited for an opening. Seeing an opening Jeral attacked high, yet his attack was quickly parried and Jeral was soon on the defensive as Saman rained blow after blow on his buckler.

"Point Saman!"

Jeral's arm screamed in pain as the buckler was shattered from repeated blows of Saman's bastard sword. In desperation Jeral feigned an overhead attack. As Saman raised his shield to respond, Jeral dropped to his knees and swung. Now under Saman's guard, Jeral connected with the warrior's armored left knee. Saman grunted in pain. Jeral quickly swung twice more at the knee before Saman recovered. Jeral quickly scrambled to his feet and backed up as Saman limped after him.

"Point Jeral!"

Jeral's shield arm hung limply at his side. Saman angled to Jeral's left looking to exploit his vulnerability. Jeral realized that if he was struck again he would lose the match. Jeral growled and swung at Saman's head. As anticipated the older man raised his shield to protect his head. As Jeral's sword connected with Saman's shield he levered his left leg up and launched it at the side of Saman's right knee. Jeral's boot connected with the armored knee and he felt the thinly armored joint give as he heard the knee crack. Saman collapsed in a heap, dropping his sword and shield to hold his wounded knee.

"Point Jeral!" Hull cried.

He stepped in to examine the older man and knelt down to talk to the older warrior. After a hushed conversation he stood up.

"Saman cannot continue. Jeral wins the match."

Jeral offered his hand to Saman but the injured warrior slapped the hand away and called Jeral a man without honor for fighting dirty. The clerics stepped in to work on Saman's injured knee and Jeral departed the ring.

Shaking his head Jeral returned to the shade. _I don't know why he is so upset. That is legal within the rules of the tournament. I should know. Gorion made me memorize the rules. Sore loser. He was the better fighter by far, so of course I had to try something unorthodox to win. Gorion always says 'find the advantage and use it.'_

Shortly it was time for the finals. Jeral could barely move his left arm. He was allowed to replace his damaged buckler but, per tournament rules, clerical healing was only allowed after a man was eliminated from the tournament. Jeral chewed on some berrum root to help numb the pain as he walked into the circle for the final match.

Jeral's opponent was a small slight man who stood barely over five feet tall. He was the smallest man in the tournament but that clearly had not hindered him in this tournament. His name was Yoktori and he had appeared at Candlekeep over the winter. He said little and spent most of his time either in the library, or tending the gardens in front of his home. He carried himself with a quiet assurance and had quickly defeated his prior two opponents. He was very thin and was at least a decade and a half Jeral's senior. His white hair was closely cropped and covered by a small open faced helm. He was wearing gleaming finely wrought chainmail and wielded a curved katana in his right hand and a short sword in his left hand.

Jeral had read about the katana but had never seen one used. He also had never seen a man fight with two weapons before. Jeral sensed that this man was quite skilled and feared he was overmatched. Jeral forced himself to focus on the positives. Feeling was returning to his left arm and he had size and reach on his opponent. Yet despite the apparent advantages Jeral was concerned.

Hull announced the finals and Jeral was surprised to see that a large crowd had gathered. Nearly everyone at Candlekeep was watching the finals to see how Gorion's ward would fare in his first tournament. Many had neglected to attend before the final match. After the perfunctory salutes the final combat began.

Jeral warily circled to his right as he sized up his opponent. Yoktori looked almost bored and had yet to be so much as touched in previous rounds of the tournament. Jeral twirled his sword from side to side as he advanced. Jeral leapt forward and attacked with a sweeping horizontal strike. Yoktori leaned back and the sword passed harmlessly inches from his chest. Smiling slightly, Yoktori leapt forward while Jeral was on the backswing. He parried Jeral's backswing with the katana in his right hand and stabbed forward with his short sword. Jeral was unable to twist his body out of the way and he grunted in pain as the padded tip of the short sword connected with his midsection.

"Point Yoktori!"

Jeral backpedaled and tried to catch his breath. Yoktori lazily advanced on Jeral and launched two overhand blows. Jeral leapt forward, his buckler caught the katana blow and his long sword pushed the short sword aside. Launching himself forward and down Jeral's forehead violently connected with the smaller man's nose. Yoktori's nose broke with an audible "crack" and blood spurted down the smaller man's face.

"Point Jeral!"

A flicker of annoyance briefly passed across the smaller man's face before it was replaced again by his bored expression.

Before Jeral could celebrate his successful attack Yoktori pivoted and ended up standing to Jeral's side. He twirled his weapons in an ornate series of patterns and rained multiple blows on Jeral's injured shield arm. Jeral cried out in pain as his shield arm fell numbly to his side for the second time in the tournament. Yoktori pivoted away and launched blow after blow at Jeral's sword arm. Jeral parried each attack as quickly as he could but Yoktori slashed downward with his katana and connected with Jeral's sword hand. Jeral felt the bones in his hand shatter as he dropped his sword and fell to one knee clutching his shattered hand close to his chest.

Defenseless Jeral looked up at Yoktori. Yoktori twirled his swords in an intricate pattern as he advanced on Jeral. Jeral was amazed to see that his opponent showed almost no emotion as he advanced on Jeral. The trickle of blood coming from the broken nose, dripping over a pale expressionless face was particularly unsettling to Jeral.

_I really need to learn that fighting style someday, I particularly like that curved katana, _Jeral mused to himself as he struggled to regain his footing.

Hull stepped between the combatants, "Jeral, do you yield?"

Jeral shakily came to his feet and thought about it.

Yoktori was the one to break the silence.

"There is no shame in honorable defeat. You fought valiantly and well, however, you have lost. Today is not your day. Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day for you."

Jeral locked eyes with the smaller man. His words had merit. Nodding once Jeral slowly stood and loudly announced, "I, Jeral of Candlekeep, yield the field of battle to the better warrior."

A round of applause went up as Hull declared Yoktori the winner and led him off to the celebration tent. Jeral slumped back to the ground as the pair of clerics worked to heal his shattered hand and wounded shield arm.

_At least I made him bleed, that is more than anyone else did. _

The thought of blood sent an excited chill up Jeral's spine.

_Blood. Why does that word have special meaning to me?_

Jeral sat on the field for a long time pondering the day's events and flexing his repaired hand. When he finally forced himself to return to the library to bathe and retire for the evening he found that sleep was a long time in coming.

The following morning Jeral sat down to breakfast in Winthrop's inn. Gorion and Winthrop joined him at the table. Smiling Gorion tossed a small pouch onto the table. The thunk of a heavy coin purse was clearly audible as it landed on the table. Jeral looked up from his meal and stared at the two older men with a quizzical look on his face.

"Good morning Jeral. It is a fine day. Yer dad and me made quite a bit o coin at the fights yesterday," Winthrop intoned.

"How is that possible? I lost."

"We know that boy. We were there. Gorion and me watched the warm-ups and saw that Yoktori was going to win. He was the best by far. So we bet on him to win and we made a killing. Nice job with the head strike. I did not expect that and neither did he. You were the only one to hit him at all during the entire tournament."

"Wait a minute. You two; my father and one of his oldest friends, bet against me?"

"Of course we did boy. Friends are friends but money is money. It was nothing personal, just business. You need to remember that, for that is the way of the world."

Looking to keep Jeral calm Gorion hastily added, "If it makes you feel any better once we saw the tournament draw we bet on you to reach the finals."

Grudgingly Jeral smirked and nodded, "Well that does help, a little."

"Well me boy, Gorion and I know what will help some more. There are 50 gold in that pouch. That is your share of the winnings. Also, here is a going away gift from me."

Winthrop handed over a bundle wrapped in soft green felt. Jeral unrolled the felt and saw a long slender musical instrument made out of ebony wood polished to gleam like obsidian. Jeral picked it up and smiled broadly.

"It's a zink! Thank you Winthrop! I always wanted to learn how to play one of these."

Blushing Winthrop clapped his hands in delight.

"I am glad you like it lad, any bard worth his salt needs his own musical instrument."

Noting Gorion's sour face Winthrop looked his old friend directly in the eye with his fiercest stare.

"You know as well as I do that the boy is stubborn. Like it or not your son is gonna be a bard, so deal with it."

Turning back to Jeral Winthrop continued, "Since you cannot sing at all I figured something like this would prevent you from singing any more than necessary. That will spare your audience from any unnecessary suffering."

He stared fondly at the musical instrument. "That belonged to a previous traveling companion of mine. Properly played it makes a beautiful sound. I am sure he would want you to have it."

"And where is he now Winthrop?"

"Er….. well, um, he was killed in an ambush. In fact his death was the one that encouraged me to retire from the adventuring life. So I came here to Candlekeep and purchased this inn."

"Well thank you again for the zink Winthrop, I am overwhelmed."

Jeral shook his head and started straight at Winthrop. "Wait a minute. Going away gift? Where are you going?"

Gorion reached across the table and laid a hand gently on Jeral's forearm.

"Winthrop is not going anywhere Jeral. You and I are going on a trip. The time has come. You and I are leaving Candlekeep tonight. Say goodbye to no one. Just buy the equipment you need and meet me on the library steps at dusk. Do not be late."

"Father, what is going on? Why must we leave?"

"All will be explained in time when we leave. But before we do depart, I too have a gift for you."

Gorion pulled out a small blue leather bound book from his robes and slid it across the table to Jeral. He then slid across a quill and small ink pot.

"Even a bard needs a spell book Jeral, so it is time you had one of your own. This spell book is nearly impervious to harm, the ink will never run and the ink pot will never empty. Modestly I can say this is one of the finest spell books I have ever created."

Jeral was too overcome with emotion to speak so he could only nod his thanks as he stared at the spell book and fought back tears. After a few minutes of silence Winthrop and Gorion left the table leaving a very confused Jeral in their wake.

Jeral felt rich with the 50 gold, added to the 25 he had saved over the years. He was brought back to reality as he quickly ran through most of his money. Even buying at a heavy discount from Winthrop his equipment was costly and he could not afford the long bow and chain mail he dearly wanted. Jeral purchased new leather armor, a new buckler, a long sword, 10 small throwing knives in a bandolier, three daggers, basic camping gear and some rations. After that the handful of coins that remained seems inadequate for whatever the future would hold.

Jeral walked into his sparkly furnished room in the upper floor of the library and took stock of his meager possessions. He stripped to the skin and using a wet rag and bucket of water quickly washed up. "Might be a while until I can do this again," he mused. Once he was clean he dried off and took the time to admire himself in the mirror. His eyes gazed back at his reflection; they were clear and blue, ice blue with an intensity that caused some to flinch away from his gaze. He had a scar over his left eye, the result of a nasty sword blow while training with the watchers when he was younger. Oddly since he grew older every wound seems to heal without leaving a scar so he only has the one.

Jeral wore his dark hair long to hide the scar. For the millionth time he sighed when he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was slightly taller than average at a shade less than six feet, and was taut and lean. He flexed his muscles in front of the mirror one last time and turned to his wardrobe.

He had a large number of outfits in his wardrobe. There was his outfit from his time as a trainee in the watchers, his monk trainee robes, his wizard robes and some simple breeches that he liked to wear around his room and when not studying. He put on a pair of dark grey breeches, high soft black boots, and a sky blue silk shirt. The armor went atop the clothes with the bandolier of throwing knives atop the armor. He fastened his sword belt and placed two daggers into his boots and a third onto his belt. Over his shoulders he fastened the reversible hooded cloak that was a gift from Winthrop years ago. One side was a deep black while the other was a mix of brown and green strips of fabric that was well sealed against the elements.

Throwing his rations, flint and tinder, spare clothes and bedroll into a sack Jeral was ready to go. His zink was lovingly tucked in a small carrying case slung across his back that also carried his spell book. With his few remaining coins in a small purse strung around his next and tucked into his shirt Jeral left his room wondering if he would ever return.

Jeral saw Gorion waiting on the front steps of the library. He really wanted to take one last stroll around Candlekeep but did not want to keep his father waiting. On his way to see Gorion Imoen came skipping up to say hi. Jeral smiled as he watched his only friend approach. Imoen was also human and of a similar age to Jeral. At little more than five feet tall she was short and had started to blossom into a very attractive young woman. Imoen had grown up with Jeral and was as close to him as any sibling. Over the years they had studied together, trained together and gotten in trouble together. He wanted to tell her everything that was happening but realized that he did not have the time. A quick hug that startled both Imoen and Jeral with its intensity was their wordless goodbye. Imoen watched him walk away as he headed towards the great library of Candlekeep.

She waved and said, "See you soon brother."

Sadly, Jeral doubted he would ever see Imoen again.

Gorion was waiting patiently at the library doors. He wore a heavy dark cloak over his sky blue mage robes and a gnarled staff that doubled as a walking stick. The staff was inlaid with runes of various metals and glowed softly from his touch.

"Come child, we are no longer safe here. Let us be off."

Without a second look Gorion headed straight for the gate of Candlekeep. Jeral could not resist one last look at his home, the only home he had ever known, before turning and hurrying after Gorion. For some reason his heart was heavy as he knew Candlekeep would never be his home again.


	2. Orphaned Again

Disappointment Chapter 2: Orphaned Again: Day 1

The sound of the gates slamming shut weighed heavy on Jeral's mind. For years, he had dreamed about walking freely beyond the walls of his fortress home and now he finally was doing exactly that. However a sense of foreboding still hung heavy in the air. Jeral was overcome with conflicting emotions as excitement and concern battled one another in his head. Jeral numbly walked along in a haze until his father broke the silence. His tone of voice made it clear that concern was the appropriate emotion for the moment. Without breaking stride Gorion addressed his foster son.

"Child, if we are ever separated, head for the Friendly Arm Inn to the north along the Coastal Way. There you will meet Khalid and Jaheira; they are old friends of mine and will aid you as best they can. There is no time for questions now; I will answer each and every one of your inquiries when there is time. If we walk all night we should be at the inn by breakfast."

Softening his tone Gorion continued, "They have excellent pancakes, I highly recommend them. They are particularly good with the berry preserve. It is a specialty of the inn."

They continued on in silence and walked east into the growing darkness. Jeral repeatedly tried to engage in Gorion in conversation but Gorion brusquely rebuffed each and every attempts. Gorion moved briskly, taking long sure strides into the night. Despite his age he showed no signs of fatigue and clearly was familiar with nighttime navigation in the woods. Despite the rapid pace Jeral easily managed to match the long strides of the elderly mage. Gorion had always stressed the need for physical fitness, both for him and Imoen. Jeral's life had been filled with physical exercise that sometimes was almost as challenging as his military studies. And worse than both were the piano, dance and singing lessons, Jeral had hated those singing lessons with a passion.

Jeral thought back on the training of his youth. For all the lessons, Jeral had never been able to sing at all. Despite his lack of singing ability, Gorion was insistent that he had a thorough and well rounded education.

_A well educated mind and a good heart will always be your greatest weapons, Jeral_.

Gorion said that each and every time Jeral complained about his studies over the years.

After a few hours Gorion stopped walking and gripped his staff firmly in both hands. His body tensed as he looked into the darkness and Gorion's staff suddenly crackled with magical energy.

"Make ready child, for we are in ambush."

Jeral could not see anything, but trusted his father's instincts implicitly. Jeral slowly drew his long sword and prepared for combat. The pair stood at the western edge of a small clearing in the woods. Gorion muttered a few words and bright mage lights sprung into being and floated up into the air, illuminating the area in a ghostly pale blue light.

Approximately 40 feet away stood four figures. Two were large, hideously ugly creatures clad in layers of furs and wielding massive spiked clubs. From his studies Jeral instantly recognized them as Ogres. The third figure was a lithe, attractive, dark skinned woman in form fitting plate mail and holding a mace and small shield.

The fourth figure was a mountain of a man, probably six and a half feet tall, almost as broad as the ogres and adorned in black plate mail with long metal spikes protruding from various locations on the armor and helmet. He wielded a massive two handed sword that gleamed evilly in the magical light. The heavily armored warrior had the symbol for Bhaal, the former God of death, on the chest of his armor. Both the eyes on the symbol of Bhaal and of the armored man glowed with a golden intensity. If all that was not bizarre enough there was the final fact that Jeral felt like he somehow knew the armored man. Some small voice in his head told him that this man was part of his destiny.

The armored man spoke directly to Gorion, his voice deep and clear: "You are very perceptive for an old man. Hand over your ward and you will not be harmed. Crawl back to that castle of yours and live out your few remaining days. You are of no interest to me."

"I would be a fool to trust you. The child stays with me. If you turn away now I will spare your lives."

Gorion had thrown back his traveling cloak and the mage robes underneath fairly crackled with magical energy. With a flick of his wrist a blue haze enveloped both Jeral and Gorion as the wizard cast protective spells on both of them.

With a start Jeral realized that the massive warrior across the clearing was assuredly the "great warrior" of Gorion's visions. Gorion has misunderstood the seer's vision. This man and not Jeral was destined to play a major role in Gorion's life. A sense of dread settled over Jeral. That major role assuredly meant that Gorion would die this very night. Jeral realized that his father was already dead, and everyone in the clearing knew it.

As if on some preplanned signal the four sprang into action. The Ogres lumbered directly for Gorion and their roars were terrifying to hear. The armored man calmly walked towards Gorion following behind the Ogres. The woman stood there and made eye contact with Jeral. At that point he saw a flash in the woman's hands and knew it was coming for him. He knew enough magic to recognize an acid arrow spell when it was targeted at him. He quickly went into a roll and then dove behind a tree. Right before he reached the safety of the tree he felt a searing pain in his shoulder. He had been hit. Some fragment of the spell has managed to pierce Gorion's magical protections and struck him a glancing blow.

Only his considerable dexterity and Gorion's protective spells spared him from more serious damage. The blood spurted from his left shoulder as he dropped his sword and worked to staunch the flow with his right hand. From his vantage point behind the tree he saw Gorion slam his staff into the ground. A lighting bolt leapt from the staff and burned into the chest of one of the Ogres, is then bounced to the chest of the second one and then disappeared into the darkness on the woods.

_I just saw a chain lightning spell_, Jeral thought as he watched in wonder at Gorion's magical prowess. Both Ogres fell to the ground dead with large smoking holes in their chests.

Gorion looked directly at Jeral, "Run child, you know what you must do!"

Gorion's face was hard but softened when he looked at his adoptive son before turning back to face his attackers. The large armored man had closed with Gorion. Gorion quickly uttered a few words and six copies of the elderly mage appeared at his sides. He then launched spell after spell at the armored man. Fire, lightening, acid and other forms of magical energies poured from Gorion's hands leaving the clearing a mass of scortched earth. Despite the awesome magical energies he wielded his spells seemed to have little effect on the giant warrior. The warrior appeared impervious to all magical effects. It was clearly only a matter of time before Gorion fell.

Gorion continued to lash out with spell after spell and the armored man barely noticed any of them as he steadily hacked through Gorion's mirror images. Jeral stood transfixed with terror. He could not abandon Gorion but what could he do? The woman slowly moved towards Jeral, her mace held at the ready. Jeral had spent enough time around fighters in Candlekeep to recognize that this woman was very dangerous and that he was no match for her. The image of her standing over his bloody and battered body flashed into his head. Gorion turned away from his opponent and launched a spell at the woman. She screamed and collapsed to the ground. Jerad did not know if she was alive or dead but prayed that Gorion had killed her.

"I will not say it again child, RUN!"

Just as Gorion had shouted the last word the large man's sword buried itself in Gorion's unprotected chest. With a gurgled sigh Gorion slowly fell to the ground as the armored man watched Gorion slowly slide off his sword leaving a trail of blood dripping off the blade.

"NO!"

Jeral screamed and jumped from behind the tree, he knew he was no match for this mighty warrior but he had to do something. He hurled one throwing knife and then a second at the armored man. The large warrior did not move and Jeral's blades bounced ineffectually of his armor.

"Come here boy. It will be over quickly. I promise. I have done this many times."

The man advanced on Jeral with his bloody sword held low to his side. Jeral stood transfixed as he watched blood - Gorion's blood - drip off the weapon. Shaking his head and forcing himself to focus Jeral reached into one of his belt pouches and pulled out a handful of caltrops. He flung them on the ground in front of his attacker. The large man lumbered forward and suddenly stopped and howled in pain as he hopped on one leg. He had stepped right on one of the caltrops and it had punched through the thinly armored boot and buried deep into his foot. Roaring in pain the dark warrior dropped his sword and hopped on one leg as he clumsily tried to take the barb of metal out of his foot.

Jeral picked up his sword and started to advance on the warrior. He had not made it three steps when he realized that the large man was just acting helpless to draw Jeral in close. Realizing he had no chance in combat against the plate clad warrior Jeral turned to flee. Jeral sprinted into the darkness to the south as fast as his legs would carry him. The tears were streaming down his face as he ran.

As Gorion lay on the ground knowing he had mere seconds to live, his final thoughts were ones of intense pride over the fact that Jeral had the presence of mind to lay down caltrops in the face of an advancing killer.

"I love you son, maybe you will be a great and powerful bard after all."

With those last words, and a smile on his face, Gorion of Candlekeep died.

The loss of Gorion replayed itself in Jeral's mind as he ran. As the miles passed he slowed to a jog and eventually, to a walk. The loss of his father had been replaced by fear for his own life. However, as dawn approached that fear was replaced by anger and a thirst for revenge. Someday, somehow, Jeral would see that large man die at his own hand. Gorion would be avenged. But first Jeral knew he needed to gain skill and experience. In addition he would need powerful allies to help him gain his revenge. It would take time but Jeral knew it would happen.

After a few hours Jeral realized he needed to find a place to sleep for the night. He climbed up into a nearby tree, wedged himself into the crook of the branch of the tree as best he could and settled down for a few hours of fitful sleep. It was a long time until he finally could put the vision of Gorion impaled on a sword from his head.


	3. A New Day

Chapter 3: A New Day: Day 2

Jeral awoke to the sounds of birds singing and sunlight streaming into his eyes. His shoulder throbbed from his wound and his back and neck felt even worse from spending the night in a tree. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around. To his chagrin and embarrassment he realized he was sleeping in a tree not a stone's throw from the Coastal Way, the only road leading from Candlekeep to the rest of the realm.

Gorion had wanted to avoid the road last night and had set off cross country saying it would be safer.

_Guess he was wrong about that_, Jeral mused.

Jeral heard a voice coming down the road and froze. Had the armored man and his female companion found him? Would he die today, treed like a squirrel?

The voice started singing a bawdy drinking song. Jeral instantly recognized his sister's voice and realized that is was Imoen singing a song she had picked up while tending bar for Winthrop back in Candlekeep's only tavern.

Jeral smiled at the thought of his sister and allowed himself to relax and enjoy her voice as she approached. Imoen had an incredible singing voice and today she was in excellent form. She was singing and skipping along the road. As she came into view Jeral could tell that she was planning on staying away from Candlekeep for some time. She had on traveling clothes and was carrying a short bow. She stopped walking and stepped off the road a ways. She clearly had a rock or something in her shoe and wanted to remove it.

Imoen had never embraced sensible footwear despite her chosen vocation and continued the trend today. She was wearing thigh high red boots with a heel. She always thought they made her look older while Jeral teased that they made her walk funny. She had selected the very tree Jeral was in to lean against as she took off her boot.

Smiling, Jeral readied himself to drop down from the tree and scare her.

_I can jump out of this tree and land like a cat_. She _is going to soil herself from fright._

Unfortunately Jeral forgot to consider the effects of his wound, fatigue and stiffness from spending the night in a tree. He rolled off the limb, realized that he had no control over his stiff arms and legs, and promptly fell onto the ground, landing heavily like a sack of potatoes.

"Ooof"

"Jeral is that you?"

"Yes it's me, what are you doing out here Imoen?"

"Looking for you O graceful and mighty warrior."

As Jeral painfully hauled himself to his feet Imoen gasped when she saw his shoulder.

"What happened to your shoulder? Where is Gorion? What is going on?"

Jeral took a deep breath and long pause before he replied.

"Dead."

"What? Gorion is dead? Impossible? No one could kill that tough old codger. What happened? Who did that to your shoulder? We need to go back to Candlekeep and tell the Watchers. They will help you, they have to help you."

"Slow down Im. One thing at a time. Gorion is dead, I watched him die. He died protecting me from some huge armored killer and his friends. For some reason this scary armored giant wanted to kill me and he killed Gorion to get to me. As for the Watchers they may or may not be able to help. I am sure the man who is after me is watching Candlekeep. We would never get back there alive. And even if we did get back there we have no valuable tome to gain entry. You know the rules of Candlekeep. I am on my own."

"Hardly brother. I am here and I am not going anywhere. I am not scared of any big ole killer." With that she hugged him fiercely and he felt a wave of emotions come over him. He felt safety, love, and relief, and even shame for running away from Gorion's killer.

As they continued the hug he experienced a new sensation as well, as he felt the swell of her firm breasts press up against his chest. He abruptly broke the hug and stared awkwardly at the ground.

"Thanks, I needed that. We need to go bury Gorion. Follow me."

They walked in silence. It took them almost four hours to walk back to the scene of the battle. Jeral was impressed that he was able to run and cover so many miles so quickly.

I _guess all that training paid off in at least one way. I can run away with the best of them_, Jeral thought to himself.

By early afternoon they had reached the site of the battle. The ogres lay where they had been killed, as did Gorion. Dead he looked older and smaller than he had in life. Jeral wondered not for the first time how old Gorion really was.

Imoen stifled back a sob, "I can't believe he is dead. Isn't there anything we can do? Could the clerics of Oghma raise him from the dead?"

"I don't think so. All we can do it take anything useful for ourselves, bury the body, and try and get someplace safe."

Jeral stripped to the waist, took a dagger from his belt and started digging. He refused Imoen's offer of assistance saying that he needed to do this himself. He also consistently refused to drink one of the few potions of healing she had pilfered from the priests before she left Candlekeep. He welcomed the pain and wanted to keep the scar as a memory of his last time together with Gorion.

By sunset there was a proper grave. Imoen busied herself by making a campfire and hunting for some dinner. By the time Jeral had finished she had a nice pair of rabbits roasting on spits over the fire.

He had already emptied Gorion's pockets and cleaned him up as much as possible. He gently placed the body in the grave. Gorion carried some coins, a dagger, and a few letters that Jeral would read once there was time. Wrapped in his cloak with his staff over his chest he looked very peaceful and the gaping wound in his chest was not visible. As Jeral stood over the grave Imoen joined him. Standing side by side they wordlessly said their goodbyes.

As Jeral knelt down to push the dirt back into the whole he raised his head to the sky and swore to any Gods that were listening that Gorion would be avenged. Imoen searched the corpses of the Ogres and found some gold coins and also located Jeral's two throwing knives.

Shaking the coin purse Imoen smiled, "at least we have enough money for a tavern and food now. If we are careful these funds can last for some time."

The next morning the pair were off at first light. They were both sore and cold from a night spent on the ground.

"If we are going to be spending much time out of doors in the future we will need the appropriate equipment."

"I could not agree more Im."

Deciding that speed was more important than stealth they worked their way back to the roadway and headed east, away from Candlekeep. They both walked swiftly and Jeral struggled to match Imoen's grace and fluidity of movement. Despite her ridiculous footwear she was incredibly coordinated and made very good time on the road.

After a half day of walking they had come across only two other travelers.

One was an obese, chatty self proclaimed hermit named Kolssed.

Following closely on his heels was a cheerful, elderly wizard who seemed to know everything, yet said nothing, about Jeral's plight.

Around yet another bend in the road they were startled out of their silence by an ear splitting screeching noise. Coming out of the woods towards them were two small, blue, ape looking creatures that had foam coming out of their large mouths.

"Gibberlings," said Imoen and Jeral in unison. As Imoen loosed her first arrow she remarked, "Guess we both did learn a little something in our studies after all."

Jeral only grunted as he started throwing knives. The first beast took an arrow in the throat and went down hard while the second one kept coming. Despite his best efforts Jeral continued to miss his target. Knife after knife went wide of its mark and the Gibberling bore down on him. With a start Jeral realized that the Gibberling was going to reach him. After the fifth throwing knife left his hand he drew his short sword and prepared himself for close combat. His final knife whizzed by the Gibberling's head and sliced cleanly through its ear. If possible that only served to make it scream louder as it leapt at Jeral.

_I can't believe that this stupid little creature is going to be the end of me_.

Jeral closed his eyes and swung wildly with his sword. He heard a terrifying howl and felt a warm splash as hot fluid spurted all over his face and torso. He felt something slam into his buckler and then heard a thud as the creature hit the ground next to him. Opening his eyes he could see little through the blood red haze.

"Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so. But I can't see!"

Jeral could feel the panic start to well up inside.

"Tilt your head back."

Jeral did so and felt a cool wave of water wash over his face and Imoen emptied a water skin into his eyes and face. After rubbing has hands across his face a few times Jeral could see again.

The Gibberling lay next to him, nearly decapitated. He looked down and saw that his sword was covered in blood and gore.

"Nicely done brother, you nearly took his head clean off. I thought you were a goner for sure."

Trying to look calm and collected, Jeral managed to say, "I meant to do that." It sounded feeble and insincere to his own ears but Imoen seemed to buy it.

Jeral realized with a start that training for combat was much different that actual combat. They both went about picking up as many of their arrows and knives as possible, not knowing when they might be able to restock.

Jeral could only find four of the knives he had thrown and a few of Imoen's arrows had shattered or could not be found.

"Nice shooting sis, if it weren't for you we would have been in real trouble."

Imoen's face lit up, she kissed Jeral on the cheek and started humming happily as they walked along.


	4. Chapter 4: Strange Encounters

Chapter 4: Strange Encounters Day: 3

It was late afternoon and they were thinking of finding a place to stop for the night when they heard voices from up ahead.

"What should we do Jeral?"

"Well it could be nothing Im, let us just keep walking and be ready for anything."

Displaying a calm he did not feel Jeral tried to affect a casual attitude as they walked towards the voices on the road ahead.

"…and so Monty that is how one can use a human skull as a soup bowl. The human body can be so wondrously useful, if only you use all of it."

"Remind me never to let you to the cooking, wizard."

"Oh Monty, don't be dense, I am a wonderful cook. Why my leg of pilgrim is simply to die for." With that the speaker broke out into a series of near hysterical cackles and giggles.

Jeral and Imoen both stopped in their tracks. They could not help and stare at the bizarre picture in front of them. There was a Halfling, barely three feet tall, armored in studded leather armor and carrying a serrated short sword. He had none of the friendly features normally associated with his kind and his face carried a scowl on its heavily scarred surface. As Jeral moved his eyes up to the taller individual he realized with a start that the small one was the normal and less threatening looking of the two. The other man was clearly human, a mage of some sort, and also assuredly insane. He was half a head taller than Jeral, rail thin and covered in tattoos with an unruly mop of wavy red hair atop his head. His eyes bulged in their sockets and seemed to move quite independently of one another. Jeral took in the scalps on the man's belt and his bone dagger and muttered, "Necromancer, evil magic," under his breath.

The two finally noticed Jeral and Imoen.

Look Monty, fellow travelers on this fair road." "A pair of children wandering the wilderness. Surely you must be none too bright to be wandering these roads."

"Ha. They look like a couple of lost little lambs to me."

"Hail travelers, I am Xzar and this is my trusty steed Montaron."

"I not be your steed you brain dead ninny."

"Shush Monty. As I was saying, may we be of any assistance to fellow travelers? You look like you have come into some trouble."  
Jeral realized that he looked like death. His armor was torn at the shoulder showing a bloody wound from a few days earlier and the front of his torso was covered in Gibberling blood.

"Thank you but we are more than capable of managing on our own."

The Halfling snorted in disgust and Xzar just giggled.

Jeral started to slowly walk towards the two with his hands at his side and a neutral expression on his face. Imoen hung back a few paces clearly unsettled by the two strangers.

Jeral walked up to the two.

"Are you sure we cannot be assistance?"

"Thank you for the offer but we are able to manage on our own."

Xzar walked right up to Jeral. He leaned down and sniffed Jeral. The then licked the side of his face. It took all of his willpower not to deck the skinny wizard. If he lashed out it would certainly result in a fight, a fight he suspected that he and Imoen would lose.

"MMMMMMMM, fresh Gibberling blood. Very distinctive and quite tasty. Thank you for sharing, very kind."

Slowly edging around the wizard Jeral wished the two travelers well and slowly started backing away from them. Imoen followed right behind him. The two parties watched each other in silence until Jeral and Imoen were out of sight.

"EWWWWWWW, how did you stand that?"

"It wasn't easy, those two really creeped me out but I thought that was a fight we could not win."

"Me too."  
I think we had best put some distance between us and them just in case.

"Agreed, I would walk all night to keep away from them."

The two kept up a brisk pace well into the night.


	5. Chapter 5: Unfriendly Reception

Chapter 5: Unfriendly Reception at the Friendly Arm Inn: Day 3

After walking for what seemed like forever the two finally came to the Friendly Arm Inn. There could not be a more misnamed spot in all of Faerun. With a name like that Jeral expected a small inn nestled in a valley near a stream or something. This "inn" was in fact a small fortress surrounded by a moat with twenty-foot high walls. A central keep rose well over 60 feet into the air. The drawbridge across the moat was raised and armored men could be seen patrolling the walls by torchlight. However the sign at the gate read "Friendly Arm Inn. All are welcome," in common, elven, dwarven and a few languages that Jeral could not even recognize. He saw a pull cord next to the sign and pulled it. A bell rang from somewhere inside the fortress. Jeral followed the cord upwards and saw that it ended in thin air some 25 feet above their heads.

Imoen merely yawned and said she wanted to go to bed.

After a few minutes the drawbridge lowered and a trio of armored men walked across the drawbridge. They were all clad in studded leather tunics and carried shields and long swords. The lead soldier addressed them formally, "Welcome strangers, to the Friendly Arm Inn. I trust we will have no problem with the two of you during your visit."

Jeral nodded politely. "There will be no problems caused by us sir. We are two weary travelers in search of a warm fire, a bath, good food and a clean bed."

"Well then the Friendly Arm Inn in the place for you, enjoy your stay." With that final word Jeral and Imoen walked across the drawbridge and under the raised portcullis into the Friendly Arm Inn. The senior soldier directed the other two to escort Jeral and Imoen to the Inn. As the four walked towards the inn Imoen started smiling and chatting with the two soldiers. Jeral could only roll his eyes as he listed to Imoen say how much she admired brave strong fighting men. She also went out of her way to repeatedly say that Jeral was her brother. The two soldiers smiled as they chatted with Imoen.

They walked through the darkened courtyard towards the steps up into the central keep. At this hour of the night there was no one about save the occasional soldier on his patrol. Even the animals in the barn were quiet and probably asleep. They reached the base of the stairs to the Inn and stopped dead in their tracks. At the top of the long flight of stairs was a man in a mage robe wearing a heavy dark cloak leaning against the door to the inn. At the sight of the two companions he quickly stood up straight and started walking quickly down the stairs. Even in the dim torchlight the siblings could see the gleam in his eyes.

"Think this is good?" Imoen asked hopefully.

"When is it good to have someone wait up all night for you?" Jeral replied acidly. "This is not Winthrop or Gorion waiting up for us. Make ready for trouble." Imoen started rummaging through her pouches for something while Jeral calmly placed his hand on his sword pommel.

The man clearly could see their actions and stopped halfway down the stairs and started speaking.

"Would you happen to be Jeral of Candlekeep?"

"Nope. Never heard of him. I am Erving and this is my cousin Eunice. We are just two weary travelers from Baldur's Gate."

"I think not. In fact, you resemble the one I am to meet. Yes I am quite sure, you are Jeral of Candlekeep."

"And what if I am?"

"I had thought that would be obvious. What type of man waits for someone in the dark of night? One with killing on his mind, for you see, Jeral of Candlekeep must die." What that ominous statement hanging in the air the stranger quickly cast a spell and 4 images of himself stood where only one was before. Jeral charged the mage while Imoen blasted away with a wand she had procured from one of her belt pouches. Jeral was dimly aware of the sound of guards shouting and running towards the confrontation. Imoen's magical missiles had dispelled two of the images and Jeral had dispelled the third with a sword strike. Before either of the siblings could strike the man he cast another spell. Imoen dropped her wand and took off screaming like she was being chased by a demon. Jeral was gripped by a terror so overwhelming that he merely collapsed to the ground where he stood. He curled up in a little ball and whimpered in terror. The man on the stairs pulled a serrated knife from his belt and quickly made his way down the stairs. Looking around he seemed to be measuring the distance from the closing guards and looking for ways to make his escape. In a blindly terrified spasm of fear Jeral's leg shot out and struck the wizard in the shin. The serrated knife slid out of his grasp as he fell backwards onto the steps while wind milling his arms frantically to retain his balance. He hit the stairs and his head snapped back, cracking into a stone step with a sickening thud.

Jeral closed his eyes for a second and forced his mind to focus inwards. _Focus on living, control the fear, you need to live to catch Gorion's killer._ That banished the fear from his mind. He reached out for the wand Imoen had discarded. Quickly determining it was a wand of magic missiles he aimed it at the prone figure and launched missile after missile into the assassin until he was little more than a lump of charred flesh on the stairs. He only stopped because the wand had broken in half as the last of the magic discharged. The guards finally arrived and Jeral was roughly dragged to his feet. Two guards held his arms tightly to his sides while a third guard stood in front of him and accused him of murdering the man. Jeral was starting to get concerned until he heard Imoen's cheery voice. "Uh fellas you might want to read this." Imoen held up a rolled parchment. The guards hesitated; clearly none of them knew how to read. Without missing a beat Imoen read it aloud for all to hear.

"Bounty Notice. Tarnesh, Be it known to all those of evil intent that a bounty has been placed on the head of Jeral, the foster son of Gorion. Last seen in the vicinity of Candlekeep, this person is to be killed in quick order. Those returning with proof of the deed shall receive no less than two hundred coins of gold. As always, any that shall receive these plans to the forces of law shall join the target in their fate."

When she finished speaking she rolled it up and tossed it to the guard who seemed to be in charge.

"Feel free to verify its contents with someone you trust," Imoen said. "We are going to get a room and get a good night sleep." Jeral shook his arms free of the guards and started walking up the stairs. His mind was racing at the thought of sharing a room with Imoen although he hoped that did not show on his face. The two walked up the stairs and entered the inn. Not surprisingly the main common room was sparsely populated at this hour. A few dwarves were drinking and carousing at the bar and the bartender, a very wizened looking gnome, walked over to welcome Jeral and Imoen.

"Welcome to the Friendly Arm Inn. My name is Bently Mirrorshade and I am the proprietor here. I apologize for the nastiness outside. I run a peaceful place and you should be safe here."

Imoen thanked Bently by kissing him on his bald head. The elderly gnome blushed and gave them a discount on the remaining room he had. The two skipped the offer of a late supper and wearily climbed to the top floor of the Inn. There they entered a luxurious room with a large fluffy bed and two chairs by a large fireplace. Jeral went over to the fireplace. It was already piled high with wood and kindling. Jeral leaned in and lit the fire and it quickly roared to life. The warmth and light was welcome to the companions. Jeral walked down the hall to the male bath chamber. Once there he quickly stripped down and vigorously scrubbed clean in a basin of luke warm water. There were large bathtubs but they were clearly not in operation at such a late hour. Once he was reasonably clean Jeral put on a pair of clean breeches and headed back to their room. By the time he got there Imoen was already buried under the covers and snoring softly. Her clothes were strewn all over the room, as was her traveling gear.

"You always were a mess little sister." Jeral smiled to himself as he spent a few minutes tidying up the room and folding her clothes. Once the room was neat again Jeral slid into bed next to Imoen. She was curled up in a ball and wearing her favorite pale pink nightshirt. The fire served to give Jeral a good view of the lovely shape of Imoen under her sheer shirt. Forcing some rather impure thoughts out of his mind Jeral slid into bed, rolled away from Imoen and shut his eyes. Sleep was a while in coming.


	6. Chapter 6: New Old Friends

Chapter 6: New Old Friends: Day 4

Jeral woke to the sunlight streaming into his room. He stretched and yawned and noticed that Imoen was nowhere to be found. Her nightshirt was on the floor so Jeral deduced that she had gotten dressed. He got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to wash up. He shaved, as much for the practice as for the need, took a long hot bath in a basin and then put on his remaining set of clothes, a pair of green breeches and a dark blue tunic, and headed downstairs. Leery from the night before, Jeral slipped knives into each boot before he headed downstairs carrying his spellbook case. He left his armor, traveling gear, sword belt and bandolier of knives over the chair in the room.

Jeral heard the sounds of muted conversations and eating going on below. As he entered the common room he saw Imoen having an animated conversation with two half elves, one male and one female. The three rose from the table as Jeral arrived.

"Khalid and Jaheira I presume?"

Clearly taken aback that they did not get the first word in the two half elves paused before they responded.

"Yes we are, Jeral. I am Khalid, and this is my wife Jaheira, we have heard of Gorion's passing and mourn for your loss. He was a dear f-f-f-friend." Khalid was large for a half elf at almost 6 feet in height and broad enough to pass for a thin human. He was in a soft brown tunic and green breeches and wore a long sword at his hip. They shook hands and Jeral realized he liked Khalid and instinctively trusted the man. Jaheira stepped in front of her husband put her hands on her hips and slowly eyed Jeral top to bottom. She was shorter than her husband and had the thinner elvish build. Jeral returned the favor and scanned Jaheira with what he hoped looked like a critical eye. She was extremely attractive, but her face had a hardness to it that detracted from her beauty. She carried a worn wooden staff and wore green breeches and and a tunic that showed signs of much wear. Her long brown hair reached the middle of her back. She was clearly an experienced warrior, and looked far more dangerous than her husband.

"Stop gawking child, it does not become you. If you are to travel with us you need to look less helpless than a lonely lost babe in the wilderness. And get a haircut for only women should have hair that touches their shoulders." Jeral had started to flinch backwards from the verbal barrage. The last comment crossed the line and angered him. He found himself leaning forward until his face was almost touching Jaheira's. In a low voice he growled, "Listen to me woman, I am my own man, not just Gorion's son. I loved him deeply, and love him still, but he could not dictate my attire and neither shall you. Imoen and I have not discussed our travel plans with one another yet but if we do decide to travel with you, and your unfortunate husband, then we shall do so on our own terms."

When he finished speaking he watched Jaheira's face and ears redden and he feared that he had gone too far. Khalid just chuckled quietly at Jeral's cheek. In an effort to lighten the mood, and avoid getting himself thrashed by an enraged warrior, Jeral took a step back, smiled and said that a haircut might not be a bad idea. Smiling he held his hand out to Jaheira. Grumbling she shook his hand. The handshake was like the woman, firm, callused and very strong. So strong it took all Jeral's strength and will not to flinch before she broke the handshake.

"There is some food remaining child, I suggest you eat before we head to Nashkel."

"A fine suggestion, woman." Jeral sat down and enjoyed his breakfast.

Imoen suggested that they stay at the Inn an extra day to rest and also because she had found a woman that wanted some family jewelry returned. Evidently a band of marauding hobgoblins had captured it and they had set up camp just out of sight of the northern wall of the inn. After a good meal the 4 went to their respective rooms to equip themselves for the limited foray into the woods.

They met outside the stables next to the portcullis that served as the exit from the fortress. Khalid wore a set of well made chain mail armor and carried a shield. He wore an open-faced helmet atop his head. Jaheira was in a set of worn leather armor and wore a thin metal band around her head. Her hands rested on a worn wooden staff. Imoen had on her usual gear. Jeral carried a shoulder bag with 10 additional throwing knives that he had purchased on his way out the door. He badly wanted to purchase a long bow but still lacked the funds.

They followed the road that worked around the west side of the inn before it turned north. The conversations between them were brief and limited. Jeral and Imoen were both nervous. Never before had they gone out for a walk expecting to find trouble, let alone looking for trouble. They had rarely been allowed outside the high walls of Candlekeep and now they were living on the road. In addition neither of them had ever seen, let along fought against a hobgoblin. The tales they had heard as children about the flesh eating monsters were terrible to hear. They had walked around the north side of the inn when Jaheira led them off the path and into the woods.

"Make ready, for I sense that there are unnatural creatures nearby." Jeral nodded at Jaheira and drew his sword while Imoen knocked an arrow in her short bow. Up ahead through the trees Jeral could see movement, LOTS of movement. A grunt followed by the sound of running figures told everyone that they had been noticed.

Jaheira and Khalid stepped in front of Jeral and Imoen. Khalid drew his sword and tightened his grip on his shield. It looked like almost a dozen hobgoblins were charging the party. They were all in fragments of various types of armor and wearing helms and wielding swords of various sizes and shapes. Jaheira uttered arcane words of power and the very grasses and shrubs on the forest floor seemed to come alive and worked to hinder the advance of the creatures. With a start Jeral and Imoen realized that Jaheira was a druid as well as a fighter. Most of the creatures were entangled in the foliage, but the three in the lead made it through before they could be entangled. Two started battling with Khalid while the other leapt at Jaheira; she just managed to ready her staff and was now fiercely battling her attacker. Jeral directed Imoen to shoot at the trapped hobgoblins while he slid to the side to support Khalid.

Khalid had killed one hobgoblin and then was knocked to his knee by a sword blow to the side from the second one. Jaheira saw her husband in danger but could not disengage with her opponent. Jeral stepped in and stabbed at the creature. Much to his chagrin Jeral's blow missed to the creature's side. The hobgoblin raised his sword high preparing to deal Khalid a killing blow. Jeral took a backhanded swing and sliced the creature's sword hand off neatly. Howling in pain it turned on Jeral. Seizing the advantage Khalid rose to his feet and ran his sword into the hobgoblin's side, killing it. As it fell to the ground Jaheira finally killed her opponent with a staff strike to the neck, with a crack the hobgoblin fell down dead. Jaheira walked over to her husband, checked his wounds, and announced them "too minor to heal." She then kissed him on the cheek and turned to face the remaining creatures after throwing a brief nod of thanks in Jeral's direction.

Imoen had killed three of the hobgoblins with her arrows. Imoen and Jeral each killed one more before the spell wore off. The final four hobgoblins, finally free of the vines and grasses attacked with a roar. Two headed for Jaheira, one for Khalid and one directly for Jeral. Jeral dropped his sword and began throwing knives. The first few whizzed by the hobgoblin, one to each side. The next three stuck in his armor but if they penetrated they clearly did little damage. Jeral threw the next knife and watched with a thrill as it buried itself into the creature's left eye socket. It stopped in its tracks and fell over dead. Jeral was elated and moved forward to retain what would now be his lucky knife when he saw a glint of steel to his side and felt a blinding pain in his side. Overwhelmed with pain Jeral fell to the ground. His hands instinctively grabbed at his right side and came away bloody. He knew he was hurt badly and was amazed at the pain. _"This really hurts!" he thought. _His vision started getting fuzzy as he was roughly rolled onto his back.

Strong hands stripped off his armor and ripped his shirt open. Jeral wondered if the remaining hobgoblins were planning to eat him when a cool rush entered his body. He could feel the pain leave his body and felt his skin and muscles knitting back together. He opened his eyes and saw Jaheira slowly standing up. She looked tired and leaned on her husband for support. As Jeral slowly got to his feet he looked at the remains of his shirt. Smiling he said, "My thanks for saving my life, but I did like the shirt even if you did not." Snorting something about "ignorant child" under her breath Jaheira moved off to search the corpses. He did catch the faintest trace of a smile on her face before she turned away. After about 10 minutes the party had a nice pile of salvaged gear. In addition to the missing family heirloom ring they had recovered additional gems, a few hundred in gold and seven sets of studded armor suitable for sale as well as a few swords. The piled the armor and weapons and armor behind a tree close to the road. The four then continued exploring to the north.

"_He has got to be a paladin, cannot be anything else. Freshly scrubbed face, polished armor, symbol of Helm. He looks like something out of the history books the monks required that we studied back in Candlekeep,"_ Jeral mused.

The man saw the four emerge from the woods. Drawing his sword he called out, "Halt! Be you friend or foe?"

"That depends, who are you?" Jeral shot back.

"I am Ajantis, Squire Paladin Sir Keldorn Firecam of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and servant of Helm. I have come down from the city of Waterdeep to fight against the Bandit menace."

"Well we are no bandits so we are not a foe."

"Well are you a friend then?" Ajantis was clearly a bit flustered from the exchange. Jaheira stepped forward.

"We are heading to Nashkel to resolve some disturbances there. Will you join us?"

Smiling broadly, the paladin quickly accepted and joined with the others. Imoen just whistled in appreciation and muttered "so pretty" as Ajantis introduced himself to her.

The group picked up the pile of armor and weapons and returned to the Inn. When they arrived back at the Inn Imoen and Jaheira went to return the lost item while Khalid and Jeral went to sell the equipment to Bentley. After some fierce haggling they received 180 gold for the lot. As the money changed hands Bentley muttered about his generous nature and how it would be the death of him. Khalid smiled and said "we c-c-c-c-could have gotten more money if that armor all did not smell of hobgoblin." Jeral divided the gold into 4 equal amounts and distributed it to the group. Jeral purchased some leather armor for Imoen, as well as studded leathers and two sets of traveling clothes for himself. The clothes were black breeches and dark grey tunics of a soft yet durable fabric. When Imoen returned to the inn Jeral presented her with her gift. She was delighted with her new armor. After a hearty and leisurely dinner the five headed to their respective rooms since they wanted to be on the road at first light on the morning. They purchased a third room for Ajantis. Jeral asked for two wash tubs to be rolled into his room as well as a screen.

Imoen watched in silence as the wash tubs and the screen were rolled into the room and after the maids left she raised an eyebrow at Jeral. Feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, Jeral stammered, "it may be a while before either of us can take a proper bath again so I asked them to set this up. If the screen is not adequate I can wait downstairs until it is my turn." "This will be fine silly. It will be good to be clean since we have been out in the woods for a few days. Besides, we used to take baths together as kids."

"That was a long time ago; we have both grown up a lot since then."

"I know that, but you have always been like a big brother to me and you have always looked out for me. I never want that to change."

Jeral felt guilty at some of his thoughts from the night before and he quickly disrobed and slid into his bath. Quickly working to distract himself Jeral asked Imoen what she thought of the Paladin. "Like something out of the history books. Handsome warrior with a strong jaw and shining armor, I almost feel like a damsel in need or rescue." Jeral could only snort at the tought or Imoen needing rescue from anyone. Imoen loved the tub and soon the two of them were singing some rather bawdy drinking songs that they had learned from their days working in Winthrop's tavern. Once they were clean and very well pruned by the water they got out on their respective sides of the screen, dried off, put on their night clothes and slid into bed.

Much to his chagrin and delight Imoen snuggled up against Jeral and rested her head on his chest.

"We have been through so much recently; I need to feel safe tonight so please hold me."

Jeral nodded and gently stroked her hair as they both fell asleep.

Jeral awoke to the first rays of sunlight coming into the window. He realized that Imoen was still curled up against his side with her head on his chest. A slew of conflicting thoughts and emotions ran through his head. He realized that he needed to get out of bed. He started to slide away from her on the bed. This caused her to moan in her sleep and slide her body back next to his. Jeral slid away from her so energetically that he slid right off the bed, taking all the bedclothes with him. Imoen awoke with a start and began laughing when she saw Jeral in a mass of bedding on the floor.

"Bad dream?"

"Something like that sis." Without another word he hopped up, grabbed his clothes and left the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Beregost Bound Day 5

Jeral quickly dressed and packed up his remaining items into his sack and slung it over his shoulder. He headed downstairs to face another day on the road. He was pleased to note that he was the first one down to breakfast. He ordered eggs, meat, cheese and bread. He had just placed his order when Khalid and Jaheira came down the stairs. Jeral watched her slide a sharp glance at her husband; he unabashedly smiled at her in return. Clearly she had wanted to come down earlier, and from the look of his smile he had found an enjoyable way to delay the start of their day.

Deciding to tweak her a bit, Jeral stood, bowed formally, smiled and said, "So glad you could join me. Not too early for you is it?"

"No child, not too early at all. Jaheira replied.

"Good morning to you Jeral."

"And to you Khalid."

Smiling he looked at Jaheira and nodded, "Woman."

"Jeral, my name is Jaheira, NOT woman," she replied sharply. Khalid started to smile, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"My dear Jaheira, I could not agree more, your name is Jaheira, not woman. And for clarity's sake my name is Jeral, NOT child. I suggest we both do our best to remember that."

"Well played Jeral." Khalid clapped delightedly.

Jeral smiled and winked in Khalid's direction. Jaheira just grumbled and barked out her breakfast order to the serving wench. Imoen bounded down the stairs and helped herself to portions of Jeral's breakfast.

After breakfast they met Ajantis, who had completed his morning prayers and exercises. The group then purchased some bread and cheeses for their travels, and departed the Inn. They walked along the road heading southward. On their way southward they had a brief encounter with some Gibberlings that caused no damage. They also searched the remains of a half dozen merchant caravans that were clearly attacked and looted by bandits. They found no survivors and nothing of value in any of the wreckage. By late afternoon, they reached the town of Beregost unhindered. Where the Friendly Arm Inn was a fortress Beregost was an open, apparently undefended town. Jeral idly wondered what kept the town safe from bandits and other creatures.

A conversation with a helpful farmer on the edge of town served to give them the lay of the land. There was an armorer of some repute, a Temple to the east of town, a magical shop to the west of town, four inns of varying cost and quality and other sundry distractions. It was late in the afternoon so they decided to head for an inn. Heeding Jaheira's advice to be frugal they headed for the Red Sheaf Inn. It was supposed to be the cheapest place to stay in town although they were warned that the inn also has a rough clientele.

The Red Sheaf Inn was on the second floor of a building in noticeable disrepair. At the top of the stairs they pulled open a rickety wooden door and entered into the inn. The combined smells of smoke, sweat, ale and urine were almost overpowering. As their eyes were adjusting to the gloom they noticed a figure coming closer. Heading directly for them out of the smoke was a dwarven fighter. His barrel chest was clad in chainmail, while he wore a great horned helm and cared a small shield, and large double headed battle axe. His red beard was forked in bronze and tucked into his belt. He had a murderous glean in his eye as he approached the party. Khalid and Ajantis quickly stepped in front of the other three.

"I am here for the head of Jeral of Candlekeep. You other long limbs may keep your heads if you step aside although I not be sad if I get to kill that elven lass we well."

Jeral replied quickly.

"Good dwarf, I am not tall by the standards of my race but I feel safe to say that without a chair or a table for you to stand upon my head will be quite safe where it is."

"No one makes height jokes and lives!"

The dwarf let out a thunderous battle cry,

"BY DURLAG'S AXE, NOW YOU ALL DIE!" He charged right into Khalid and bowled him aside. Ajantis swung at the dwarf but his blow deflected off the attacker's shield. Jaheira swung her staff at the dwarf and stuck him in the head. With a loud "CRACK" her staff shattered into pieces upon the dwarven helm. The dwarf shook his head, spit out a bloody tooth and resumed his charge at Jeral. Imoen had stepped to the side and was shooting arrows as fast as she could. At such a close range she could not miss but most seemed to imbed in his shield, or seemed unable to pierce his dwarven chain mail.

Jeral stood at the entrance to the Inn with his hands on his sword hilt and appeared unconcerned about the charging dwarf. As the dwarf closed Jeral placed his right hand behind his back. Jaheira watched Jeral expecting a flung knife to halt the dwarven advance. Right before the dwarf could strike, Jeral stepped back out the door pivoting on his left foot Jeral grabbed the other side of the door with his right hand and swung around to the other side of the door. With a road the enraged dwarf ran right through the railing and fell onto the street below. As he lay their dazed on the ground a few well placed arrows and throwing knives quickly ended his life. Imoen walked down the stairs and quickly rifled the corpse. She came up with a purse of 100 gold and another bounty notice scroll.

"Same as the last one brother, except this one is named Karlat and now you are worth three hundred and fifty pieces of gold."

"Well that is flattering isn't it? I suspect if it keeps going up then I am doing something right."

The party decided that with the newfound wealth they could afford to stay in better accommodations, particularly when they saw the results of bargain shopping. They walked around the corner to the Burning Wizard Inn. A young foppish looking fellow asked them if they wanted a job on the morrow. Jeral quickly said sure and they arranged to meet after breakfast. As the party sat down over dinner Khalid asked Jeral why he taunted the dwarf. "You know they hate height jokes above almost all else."

"Khalid, of course I know they do. Gorion once taught me that to make one's opponent lose their calm while keeping yours can be half the battle. I also remembered the story of Niklos the Minotaur slayer. Niklos was a skilled warrior who used to get Minotaurs to charge him and at the last minute he would step to the side and then strike them from behind. He did this quite successfully for years until he came across a Minotaur who anticipated his maneuver."

"What happened then?" Khalid asked

"Well the minotaur faked an out of control charge and when Niklos sidestepped he also turned in anticipation of the Minotaur running past. The Minotaur merely adjusted direction and gored him in his lightly armored side. Thus endeth the tale of Niklos the Minotaur slayer. Hmmmm, I guess if one grows up in a library reading all the time something sticks on occasion. I guess I learned something from all those books after all. Frankly, the dwarf looked too tough for us so I tried to even the odds. I will not use the same trick too often less I end up like Niklos."

With a laugh the party enjoyed a hearty meal and then retired for the evening.

As Imoen went to bed Jeral stated that he was going downstairs for a drink. Sleepily she just nodded and went to sleep.

Jeral went looking for a courtesan. He had seen a few during the day and was sure he could find another. He went back to the Red Sheaf Inn and found what he was looking for. After some brief negotiations Jeral followed one upstairs. She was smiling and said "you're an easy one dearie, if that is all you want and I still get full price it is fine by me." Jeral returned to bed an hour later, poorer by seven gold pieces, but he slept much better that night.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: A Lady in Need? Day 6

The next morning they ate a quick breakfast and headed outside to meet their contact. He introduced himself as Garrick. He announced grandly that he was a bard of some renown in the employ of a great thespian. He was of average height, and not poorly built. He was clad in ornate crimson chainmail and carried a light crossbow and short sword. "So the job is a simple one. Just serve as her bodyguards til sundown and you are 300 gold richer. What could be easier?" Welcoming the chance at easy money they followed Garrick to meet his boss. Silke turned out to be a woman who looked like an over the hill courtesan trying to look younger. Her face was heavily made up and her mage robes were cut to show a lot of skin. She clutched a beautiful white quarterstaff that was clearly enchanted. She stated that she had been receiving death threats and she was to meet the criminals today. She wanted allies to strike them down. Jeral accepted her terms and settled down to wait.

"There they are, make ready you lot." Silke's words shattered everyone out of their relaxed posture. The three men walking down the street looked like harmless merchants. Nothing about them appeared to be a threat. One spoke "Silke, we are here as you instructed, what do you wish to discuss?"  
The sweet voice was not replaced with a harsh cutting scream, "Kill them now!" Silke raged.

"Hold on there lady, we are not killing anyone until we understand what is going on," Jeral cried.

Reddening Silke turned and faced Jeral. Spittle flying from her mouth she screamed, "Our deal is off! In any case you lot are probably too cowardly to be any good in a fight. I will deal with them myself, after I deal with you." With that she started chanting the words to a spell. Khalid and Ajantis drew their swords and charged while Imoen readied her bow and Jeral drew a throwing knife. Before any of the others could act Jaheira had closed with Silke and punched her, hard, in the face. Silke's nose broke with a loud crunch and blood spurted fourth from it. Silke screamed in pain and rage and struck Jaheira in the side with her staff. Jaheira grunted in pain and collapsed to the ground. "You broke my nose you mongrel dog." Silke raised her quarterstaff over her head to deliver a killing blow to Jaheira. Before she could complete the blow she was struck by an arrow to the chest, a throwing knife to the throat, and a long sword strike to the stomach. Dead where she stood her quarterstaff slid from her now lifeless hands and she crumpled to the ground. Khalid laid his bloody sword on the ground and knealt next to his wife. She was muttering a spell and soon had healed her own injured side.

The men thanked Jeral and company for sparing their lives, they said they were business partners of Silke and she had evidently tried to double cross them. The leader, a merchant named Faltis, handed the party a few potions in gratitude. Imoen looted Silke's corpse and came up with 500 in gold, a mage robe, and the clearly enchanted quarterstaff.

Smiling Imoen handed Jaheira the quarterstaff. "Bet this one will not break so easily." Jaheira smiled grimly and took a few practices swings with her new weapon. Apparently satisfied she nodded in acceptance.

Garrick had been standing off to the side silently. He sheepishly approached the party. "Guess she had it coming, what with her being really evil and nasty and all. I am not sure what to do now. I am in need of a job." The members all looked to one another for opinions. No one seemed to have anything to say about the young bard for good or for ill. Jeral was about to send him away when he saw that Imoen was staring at the bard and smiling shyly. _Guess sis thinks he is cute_, Jeral mused. Wanting his sister to be happy he extended a hand and said, "Welcome, let's see how you manage with us and make a final decision after a few days." With a start Jeral realized that he was not jealous about her possible feelings for Garrick in the least. Jeral introduced Garrick to the others.

"Well, given the excitement of this morning I think we had best relax for the remainder of the day and then head off for Nashkel tomorrow. Khalid, Ajantis and Garrick headed to the Burning Wizard Inn to rent three rooms for the evening. Jaheira and Imoen disappeared to do some shopping and snooping around. Jeral decided to visit the local smith and see about selling the mage robe. The smith determined that it was lightly enchanted to offer some protection against fire. Since Jeral knew no one in the party could wear it he decided that they could make some money and sell it. Jeral spent 30 minutes perusing the wares of the smithy. Flush from the funds from Silke and the sale of the mage robe he went on a bit of a shopping spree for his companions. For Jaheira he purchased a lightly enchanted sling, and 100 normal sling bullets. For himself he picked out a well made long bow with a quiver of 60 arrows, and for Imoen more arrows. Since Khalid and the paladin their front line fighters and already well equipped he got nothing for them. When he walked out the door, Taerom Fairuim gave him a hearty farewell.

He left the smith and brought his newly purchased items back to the Inn. At dinner that evening he presented all his companions with their share of the remaining funds and the equipment he had purchased. They were all delighted. Imoen was practically beaming and clearly had something to say. She quickly handed Jeral a wand. He recognized it as a lightning wand. This was something Imoen could not afford. "This is great Imoen; do I even want to know how you got it?" "Don't ask brother. Just do not visit the large estate to the North of town." Shaking his head and smiling Jeral marveled at the new toy. "I am sure I can put this to good use, thank you Imoen."

"My pleasure, I know you have not learned many spells and you cannot cast any of them while in armor so I thought this might be of assistance."  
"Thank you sis, I will only use it where absolutely necessary." Jaheira started to inquire where Imoen had acquired the wand until Khalid suggested that the two of them retire for the evening. Shaking her head in frustration Jaheira followed Khalid upstairs. Ajantis excused himself and headed upstairs to polish his armor and pray to Helm.

"Well it's just the three of us now," Garrick said.

Garrick ordered them a round of Ale. Jeral took a healthy swallow and started coughing and sputtering. The ale was thick and sour and burned going down. "What is this swill?" Jeral gasped. Laughing Garrick informed the others that this was a rare delicacy, ogre rotgut ale. Evidently a Flaming Fist patrol had defeated a small band of ogres and sold the recovered alcohol to the local taverns. "The bardish life requires one to be open to new experiences, else how can I ever hope to tell great tales without living them myself?" Imoen wrinkled up her face at her mug, "that may be true Garrick but I am getting some wine, you can have your Ogre brew." Jeral forced his mug down and it settled like a stone in his stomach.

Garrick was delicately sipping his and clearly was thinking that the drink was less romantic in the drinking than in the potential retelling. Imoen came back with a bottle of wine and 2 glasses. "Garrick can have my ale, let us drink wine." "Fine by me Imoen," Jeral replied. The two proceeded to tell funny tales of their childhood to Garrick and the more they drank the funnier and louder the stories became. Garrick entertained the entire bar with a few bawdy tunes that had the entire common room singing along and laughing at the off-color verses. At some point there was a second and then third bottle of wine. The evening was getting late so the three finally decided to wrap up and head off to bed.

They reached the second floor with only a few minor stumbles. Garrick was sharing a room with Ajantis while Imoen shared a room with Jeral across the hall. They said good night to one another and retired to their separate rooms. Jeral doffed his shirt and boots and collapsed on his bed. He tried to focus on a spot on the ceiling to keep the room from spinning. Garrick collapsed on the floor with a thud, completely missing the bed. Evidently the 2 ogre ales had been quite enough for him. His muffled snores could be heard across the hall almost immediately. Imoen went behind the changing screen and quickly put on her pink night-shirt. It was thin and stopped above the knee. Jeral tried not to stare but the alcohol made that effort doomed to failure.

A lump formed in his throat as he stared at her. Imoen had a tight figure with lean athletic lines. While noticeably shorter than Jeral she seemed much taller than him right at this point. She stepped out from behind the screen and swayed a little as she walked. Clearly the wine had hit her like it had Jeral. "Do you remember when we played healer and warrior as kids?" Smiling Jeral thought back to the many times they had played that game. In it one of them was always the wounded warrior and the other had to undress them and check over their body to see if they were ok. They played it on and off for a couple years until they both realized they were getting too old for such childish games. "Yes I remember."

"Wanna play now?"

Jeral could not speak. Finally his voice returned.

After stammering for a second he managed to croak, "No, that would not be right, go to bed."

Yet another night where sleep did not come easily.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Hangovers and More Day 7

Jeral awoke to the first rays of light. They served to awaken the pain that was in his head. Swearing off drink, not for the first time, Jeral struggled with the pain. With a start he realized that the hangover was the least of his concerns. Curled up next to him was Imoen. She had clearly climbed into bed with him after he passed out. _Thank heavens nothing happened. I love Imoen but she is my sister_, Jeral mused. He lay wishing for death as the hangover and the confusion from the night's prior events served to cause his head to throb and ache. After a few minutes Imoen began to stir. She rolled over to face him. Smiling she said good morning. After a few seconds her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak. Before she could say anything she rolled away from Jeral and proceeded to vomit off the side of the bed. Jeral held her hair out of the way as she continued to vomit. A small part of his mind managed to stay detached and was amazed at how much food the small girl had apparently eaten yesterday The variety of colors and consistencies was impressive as well "She must have visited every food vendor in town yesterday," Jeral mused.

Once Imoen was finished being sick she rolled onto her back and moaned in pain. "My head hurts," she moaned. Jeral hopped out of bed to clean up the mess and get Imoen some water from the pitcher on the table. As Jeral walked to the bed to bring Imoen the water she propped herself up on some pillows to drink from the glass. Jeral left Imoen to her suffering and unsteadily walked downstairs to the common room in search of a hangover cure.

Khalid and Jaheira were already at a table eating. Jeral sheepishly joined them. A glass of murky liquid was placed in front of him by the serving wench. With a knowing look she suggested that should be his breakfast. Nodding slightly, to reduce the pain, Jeral lifted the glass and drank the foul smelling, slimy concoction down in one long gulp. It took all his will to keep it down but it did reduce the pain in his head somewhat.

"Uh guys, I think we are going to need to stay in Beregost for another day."

"What? Why chi, er Jeral." Appreciating Jaheira's efforts at tact Jeral explained to her and Khalid that he Imoen and Garrick had all consumed more alcoholic beverages than they should have the night before. Muttering something about balance and children Jaheira and Khalid left the Inn to spend another day exploring Beregost. Jeral ordered two more hangover specials and headed upstairs, on the way he bumped into Ajantis and explained the situation. Shaking his head in disappointment the paladin departed to spend the day visiting the local temple. Jeral opened the door to Garrick's room and stuck his head in. Garrick's snores verified that he still lived, as did the spreading pool of drool by his mouth. Jeral placed a mug of the beverage on the table in the room and quietly backed out.

Returning to his room he knocked. He did not receive a reply so he knocked again. After a third knock a weak voice said come in. He entered the room to see Imoen on the floor in a ball, she had not yet gotten dressed. She kept moaning that her head was going to explode. He placed the drink on the table and picked her up off the floor with surprising ease. He sat down in a plush chair with her on his lap. He said nothing; he just stroked her hair and held her. Jeral eventually got her to drink the hangover cure and she forced it down in a few reluctant gulps. Once she finished the drink he put her back into bed and left to explore the town."

Day 8

The next morning the party met for a hearty breakfast. Jeral, Imoen and Garrick apologized for wasting a day and promised to be smarter in the future about what – and how much – they drank. That seemed to satisfy everyone, even Jaheira.

After breakfast they gathered their gear, to include bedrolls and field gear purchased by Khalid and Jaheira, and headed south. The party made good time on a clear spring day. Imoen skipped ahead chatting animatedly with Garrick. Evidently the stay in Beregost had given her exactly what she wanted and needed. Jeral was not sure how he felt about that but he was glad that she was happy. Garrick mentioned that he had heard from the town crier that there was a large reward for the head of a cleric named Bassilus. Everyone agreed that they would pursue the reward but only after they had visited Nashkel.

After walking for less than an hour they heard a large amount of movement in the trees off to the side of the road. Everyone slowed their pace and readied their ranged weapons. Imoen started to scout ahead but her presence was clearly detected because the movement in the woods stopped.  
"Imoen, Garrick, fall back NOW!" Jeral yelled.

Imoen looked back in confusion.

At that moment two large creatures burst from the trees to the side of the road. Jeral immediately recognized them as ogres. They were similar in size to the ones that had attacked him and Gorion only half a fortnight ago. Imoen and Garrick took off at a sprint back towards the group. Khalid and Jeral fired arrows while Jaheira's sling bullets joined in. Ajantis drew his sword and charged the ogres. The first ogre fell under a hail of missiles. The second one continued to close on Imoen and the group. Khalid dropped his bow and drew his sword; however he did not have time to remove his shield from his back. Jaheira grabbed her staff and the two half elves charged forward to support Ajantis against the ogre. They split a few feet apart and Imoen and Garrick went dashing between the gap between the two half elves.

The ogre collided violently with Ajantis and the Paladin was knocked to the ground. Jeral's arrows failed to find their target while Garrick stung the creature with a crossbow bolt to the shoulder. It bellowed in pain. Jaheira waded in and stung the monster with a blow to its ribs while Khalid stabbed with his long sword. With a roar it flailed its club at Jaheira. She managed to evade the force of the blow although one of the nails on the ogre's club sliced into her shoulder. Before the ogre could take another swing an arrow from Imoen buried itself into the ogre's eye, killing it instantly. As it toppled to the ground Ajantis had to roll out of the way to avoid being smothered underneath the beast. Jaheira healed herself after checking the others to ensure that no one else needed her aid.

Imoen found two enchanted belts and some small gemstones of marginal quality and value. Jeral and Garrick closely examined the two belts and quietly chatted to one another. After a few minutes Garrick declared that one of the belts offered some minor protection against slashing and piercing weapons while the other was cursed to reversed the wearer's sex. It was agreed that Jaheira should wear the protective belt and Jeral offered to hold the other belt for safe keeping. Smiling, Jeral knew he would have an opportunity to put the belt to good use at some point. Gorion had always scolded him for the practical jokes he and Imoen pulled on the residents of Candlekeep but there had always been a gleam in his eye as he did so.

They walked in silence for a few hours. Jaheira clearly was enjoying the outdoors and the beautiful day. Khalid was just enjoying his wife's happiness. Jaheira stopped abruptly, raised her arm in the air and took a deep breath. "Someone is cooking," she said. "They are cooking human flesh. Prepare yourselves." The party cautiously moved in the direction Jaheira indicated. Peering through some trees they could see approximately 8 hobgoblins arguing over some meat on a spit over a fire pit. Jeral did not speak hobgoblin but they were obviously arguing over portion size. The group readied their ranged weapons, all save Ajantis, and attacked the creatures. With complete surprise on their side the eight hobgoblins were quickly dispatched without anyone in the party receiving any damage at all. The camp gave the party some small amount of gold and a supply of arrows before they moved on.

They had gone less than a mile when they were challenged by a lone armed member of the Flaming Fist. Shouting "I am the law, stop in the name of…well in the name of me!" he approached the party. Jaheira put a restraining hand on Jeral's forearm. "I will handle this Jeral. The Fist is normally a source of law and order in this land. One must be respectful and tactful in dealing with them." Nodding his assent Jeral watched Jaheira approach the mercenary. The mercenary came to a stop in front of Jaheira and declared that she and her companions were all clearly bandits and must be punished. Jaheira took offense at being called a bandit. Things quickly escalated from there and before too long Khalid was reluctantly strapping on a new set of plate mail armor and he placed his chain mail armor in his pack for a future sale. They offered the plate mail armor to Ajantis but he refused to wear such ill gotten gain.

"I realize he was overzealous in his application of the law and that we fought in self defense but I cannot wear such tainted armor," the paladin solemnly intoned.

As the party walked away from the corpse Jeral innocently asked how calling someone "the pox on a diseased Gibberling's ass" could be considered respectful and tactful. Jaheira glowered at him as Khalid and the others laughed in amusement. The laughs did not die down until everyone realized they had best quicken their pace to catch up to the back of a rapidly disappearing druid.

It was twilight when they reached the outskirts of Nashkel on the Amnian border. They crossed the bridge into the village and were immediately confronted by a guard who asked their names and business. Their brief response served to placate the guard and they were granted entry into the town. It was little more than a row of buildings along the main street with a stream on the other side of the road. Khalid suggested the meet with Mayor in the morning and they headed to the Nashkel Inn.

The Inn was small, sparsely crowded and dimply lit. From across the common room a voice announced the presence of yet another assassin.

"This may be a touch unlady like but I'm going to slit your throat I am." Advancing out of the gloom was an armored woman wielding a war hammer.

"_How can she slit my throat with a hammer? How dumb is that? And what is with the pre attack speech. Just shut up and try to kill me already."_ Jeral mused to himself as he drew his sword and started to charge the advancing woman.

She halted halfway across the room and started casting a spell. As she completed the spell, Jeral, Imoen and Jaheira froze in place.

Ajantis and Khalid advanced on the woman and placed themselves between her and their immobilized companions. Garrick started shooting crossbow bolts at the woman. The bolts could not pierce through her chain mail armor, helm and shield. She and the two fighters were busily trading blows and the sound of weapons striking shields rang through the inn as other patrons scrambled out of the way. The assassin seemed unable to penetrate their defenses while they seemed equally unable to do damage to the assassin. Khalid made a sweeping overhead attack that was neatly blocked against the woman's shield. To Khalid's horror his sword shattered on her shield leaving him weaponless. Khalid slowly backed up under a furious barrage of hammer strikes. His shield was slowly being deformed from all the blows.

Ajantis seized on her distraction and finally penetrated her defenses with a high backhanded slash to her unprotected throat. She dropped her hammer and shield and tried to staunch the flow of blood from her neck with her hands. Coughing up blood she fell to the floor and the party impassively watched her bleed out. As she died the immobilized party members were freed from her hold person spell. Quickly searching the body Imoen found a magical helm, a few hundred in gold and yet another bounty notice with a bounty set at six hundred and eighty pieces of gold. "By the way, they now mention that you have a group of well armed friends. Nice to know we finally get some attention as well. This one was apparently called Neira," Imoen stated.

Acting as nonchalant as possible the party requested three rooms at the Inn. Wordlessly they trudged upstairs to get some sleep at the end of a long day. Khalid and Jaheira took the first room, and Garrick and Ajantis entered the second. Imoen headed for the third door. Jeral slowly followed Imoen into the room.

Imoen was already undressing by the bed. Once the door closed she finished undressing, slipped into her nightshirt and slid into bed. Jeral quickly changed and slid in next to her. Wordlessly they cuddled together and went no farther than that. Secure together they went to sleep.

Jeral awoke in the morning feeling refreshed and happier than he had in days. Imoen was already awake and putting her gear back on, ready to face whatever lay ahead.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Off to the Mines Day 9

The party met for a quick breakfast and discussed the plans for the day. Jaheira and Khalid had already met the mayor, one Berren Gashkel, and he had requested assistance to determine what evil was plaguing the Nashkel mine and corrupting the iron ore. Jaheira stated that this was an opportunity to help restore the balance, while Garrick viewed it as an opportunity to gain heroic tales for the retelling in lore and song. For his part, Ajantis viewed it as an opportunity to prove his virtue and ability to his Order and to Helm. Imoen and Jeral just nodded and went along with the group.

They left the inn and headed south on the only road in town, small children, chickens and town folks doing about their business made the small lane chaotic. A quick stop at the general store replenished supplies. While at the store they sold Khalid's old chainmail and replaced Khalid's shattered sword and battered shield. Khalid hefted the newly purchased blade and looked at it skeptically, "This one may not be much better my friends. What with the iron crisis and all. But I, I. I am sure it will work out for the best."

Past the temple an obese sweaty man tried to give the party gold for a reward due to one Greywolf the bounty hunter. Before Imoen or Jeral could reach for the money Ajantis had pointed out that there was some mistake and that the party was not due any bounty and that they had nothing to do with any bounty hunter. Muttering under her breath, "stupid goody goody" Imoen stuck her tongue out at Ajantis. Fortunately for all concerned the paladin did not notice.

The party next came across a giant of a man who was clearly distraught. The agitated man before them was well over six and a half feet tall, broad of shoulder and heavily muscled. Clad in splint mail he had a large two handed sword strapped to his back. His head was shaved and a large purple tattoo covered half of his friendly open face. A small furry rodent perched on his shoulder and the man appeared to be taking guidance from the animal.

In a cheerful yet booming voice the large man intoned, "Stop and go no further, Minsc and Boo would have words with you." Jeral identified the accent as that of Rasheman, a wild and untamed land far to the north and west. Jeral stepped forward and greeted the giant. "Greetings Minsc, I am Jeral, this is my sister Imoen, and my companions Khalid, Jaheira, Ajantis, and Garrick."

"You must greet Boo as well small one."

"Who is Boo?"

"Boo is my miniature giant space hamster, and my friend."

"Are you serious?"

"Minsc is always serious. Unless Boo tells a funny joke, then Minsc is not serious."

Following his personal policy of never angering large, heavily armed men who appear a little bit imbalanced, Jeral bowed and formally introduced himself and his companions the miniature giant space hamster named Boo. The hamster sat up and chattered in a way that made Jeral feel he was being greeted in return.

"Boo appreciates your greeting and we request your aid. Minsc has lost his witch. He is charged with protecting the fair witch Dynaheir. The smelly dog people knocked Minsc on the head and took his witch. Misch and Boo tracked them to the castle in the direction of the setting sun. Minsc needs aid to free her. Boo says that Minsc cannot free his witch without help."

"A damsel in distress, how can we ever refuse?" Garrick cried. "The bards will sing our praises."

"You are a bard Garrick." Cracked Imoen.

"I know that, I mean other bards will sing about me. I mean us. How delicious is that?"

Interrupting the sidetracked pair the paladin spoke, "These foul beats must be exterminated and the lady rescued," Ajantis intoned.

Elbowing Imoen as she approached Minsc Imoen spoke back up. "They are right brother, we have to help him, besides his hamster is cute." With that Boo ran down Minsc's body and ran over to Imoen, perching himself in her hands as she cooed over him. Looking at Khalid and Jaheira, and receiving slight affirmative nods in reply, Jeral agreed the group would go with Minsc. The mines and the larger iron crisis would have to wait for a few more days.

The newly enlarged party headed west out of town. Crossing a small bridge they were approached by a young wizard sporting garish bejeweled red robes and a closely cropped beard. He looked disdainfully at the party and started walking towards them.

"You there, unwashed ones, I have a task for you."

"What task might that be?" Jeral asked.

"Accept or not before I explain. You should be honored to work for one such as myself."

"We do nothing without an explanation." Jeral started to walk by the annoying mage.

Quickly moving to stand in front of Jeral again he said,"I need to have someone killed.

"Keep talking."

"I am searching for a witch called Dynaheir, a member of the lesser gender and a lesser nation of magic" Jeral realized that this annoying man was in a lot of trouble.

"RRRRAAAAGGGGRR. Dynaheir is Minsc and Boo's witch! No evil red wizard will harm her! Minsc would kick the pants of evil but the evil wizard does not wear pants so Minsc does not know where to kick." Minsc stood with his hands at his sides trembling with rage. The remainder of the party simply stared open mouthed at Minsc.

The red robed mage shook his head in resignation, "As allies of the witch, you must now die. I the great Edwin Odessarian must now destroy all of you." With that he started muttering the words to a spell. Before anyone else could react Minsc had closed with the wizard and clubbed him across the face with a meaty fist. The wizard collapsed in a heap. His nose was bloody and broken and not a few teeth were on the bridge. A faint rise of the chest showed that he was still alive, just knocked out.

Jeral walked up and knelt by the body. "Jeral, you cannot kill him now that he is defenseless." The paladin laid a firm hand on Jeral's shoulder.

"Relax Ajantis, who said anything about killing him?" Smiling Jeral took the cursed belt from his pack and affixed it to the red wizard. In an instant the battered wizard had changed into an equally bloody and battered – yet not unattractive – female wizard. Jaheira and the others could only laugh.

"Minsc does not understand what happened to evil wizard but Boo says that he got what he deserved so Minsc is happy." With that the party set off across the bridge westward in search of the captive witch. Once they crossed the bridge they were accosted by a man who had to be the town dolt, there was no other explanation. He followed along behind the party asking inane questions and repeatedly touching the female party member's arms. Noober was extremely annoying; they knew his name was Noober because he announced that fact in every other sentence. Jeral was almost ready to strike the fool when Imoen came up with a better solution. Imoen leaned in close and whispered in Noober's ear. With a shout of joy he took off at a sprint back towards town. Everyone looked at Imoen in amazement. Smiling she stated that she informed the lovely gentleman that a beautiful maiden awaited him on the bridge and that she needed a strong man to take care of her. He went running off while stating how he wanted to meet a nice girl and this could be his chance.

"A fate far worse than death lies ahead for the unfortunate red wizard,' Khalid intoned. The group shared a laugh as they walked further away from Nashkel.

The group headed west out of Nashkel, Minsc scouted ahead and Imoen was following behind Minsc trying to copy his stealthy yet swift strides. Imoen had begged Jeral to be the party scout and he had reluctantly obliged her so she was working hard to keep up with Minsc. Imoen was walking along the edge of a recently plowed field when she suddenly stumbled and fell into a small tree. Jeral and Jaheira rushed up as Imoen picked herself off the ground and dusted herself off.

"Stupid green rock," Imoen muttered as she kicked at a shiny green object that was protruding from the ground.

Jaheira bellowed, "Stand back children, that is an Ankheg and they can swallow a man whole!" Jeral let the child quip slide and they all scrambled back with their weapons ready. After a few seconds they realized that the green rock had not moved at all.

Jaheira slowly approached it and prodded it with her enchanted quarterstaff. Khalid and Ajantis followed her up and the three were soon on their hands and knees digging furiously. After about 10 minutes of hard effort they stood up holding a shining green suit of armor. Jaheira announced that it was Plate mail made from the shell of an Ankheg, as such it was highly prized for its strength, resistance to acid and light weight. Jeral eyed the armor and was impressed with its beauty. "I wonder who lost this armor in a farm field. Oh well finders keepers. Only you, Khalid, Ajantis and Minsc would wear such heavy armor and it clearly is too small for Minsc."

"T-t-t-t-try it d-dear. It is from nature after all."

Jaheira shed her studded leather armor and tried on the green plate mail. It fit like a glove and she tried to hide her smile as she stretched and moved in it. Imoen shed her leather armor and tried on Jaheira's old studded leather. It fit well enough and Imoen beamed happily in her new heavier armor.

Marveling at their good fortune they continued to the west. The remainder of the day passed uneventfully and near sunset Jaheira suggested they stop for the night. The party set up camp. Minsc busied himself by gathering wood for a small fire. He explained that by using certain wood and by building a shallow fire pit they could have a fire with very little smoke or glare to give away their position. Minsc seemed one with nature as much as Jaheria. Jeral took the first shift on watch and the party settled down for the night.

Day 10

The next morning the party awoke refreshed and well rested and resumed their trek westward. Minsc was clearly concerned over the fate of his witch and held many hushed conversations with his hamster. Other than an attack by a pack of hungry wild dogs the morning passed uneventfully.

The party crested a small rise and saw that their way was blocked by a small river. Jaheira stated that there were bridges across the river to both the north and the south. Minsc stated that the gnoll tracks headed south so the party continued on to the south. After a short while they approached a narrow wooden bridge that spanned the river. The companions prepared to cross the river but before they could they heard screams from across the river. As they readied their weapons they saw a tall slim man racing across the bridge. He was dressed in colorful silks and was clearly some member of the lesser nobility. At the end of the bridge he saw the party and quickly skidded to a halt.

"I am Jared of Baldurs Gate." He gasped, "There is a bear at the other side of the bridge, and it tried to kill me. Please protect me."

"Bears only attack people if they are hungry," Jaheira replied haughtily.

"Well he must be hungry. Please kill it so I can cross safely and I will do anything in gratitude."

"Mince is a ranger and friend of nature and furry animals. He does not want to hurt nice bear."

"Let us cross the bridge and see for ourselves and then decide. Maybe the bear wandered off," Imoen suggested.

With that the seven party members cautiously moved across the bridge.

As they reached the far side of the bridge they saw a large black bear rolling in the dirt. It sniffed the air, stopped rolling in the dirt and quickly returned to standing on all four legs. It looked at the party, roared, and charged.

"Well what do we do now?" Jeral cried.

"We return to the far side of the bridge and try the northern bridge, and quickly!" Jaheira said.

The seven turned around and started running across the bridge. They reached the end of the bridge and stopped, they were all breathing heavily with the exceptions of Minsc and Jeral.

"Well we have outrun the bear but he is still coming. And looking at some of you we cannot outrun him forever." Jeral directed a pointed glance at Khalid who was panting heavily and had his hands on his knees.

"Well some of us do have to wear heavy armor, you know. And p-p-p-plate mail can be a bit unwieldy when one is trying to run."

Smiling Jeral replied, "Forgive my ill time jest. Your armor may be heavy but I for one am glad you wear it for it keeps those of us who stand behind you safe."

"Enough chatter, the bear is clearly mad with sickness or hunger. The poor beast must be killed. I see no other way, unless someone knows how to charm the creature." After receiving no positive reply Jaheira reluctantly pulled out her sling and launched a bullet at the charging bear. It glanced of his side harmlessly. Garrick's crossbow joined in, as did Imoen's shortbow, Jeral's long bow and Khalid's long bow. As the bear continued to close the gap Jeral marveled at the ability of the bear to shake off damage. It had at least a half dozen arrows or bolts protruding from its body and seemed unaffected by the wounds.

As it reached the foot of the bridge Minsc attacked the bear with a massive overhand slash from his great sword while Ajantis flanked the large ranger. Minsc's blow dug deep into the bear's neck and fore leg. The bear lashed out and struck Minsc in the side. With a roar Minsc fell to the ground as blood gushed from his side. Before the bear could strike Minsc again sword strikes from Ajantis struck home and the bear fell to the ground dead.

Jaheira rushed up to Minsc to tend to his wounds. After a few healing spells and a couple of minutes time the ranger was back on his feet shaking off the effects of the blow. Other than some small slashes in his splint mail Minsc looked unaffected by the attack.

They noticed that the agitated noble Jared was standing off to the side shifting nervously from foot to foot. "Um, I thank you for your assistance. Here." With a rush he handed a pair of boots to Imoen and dashed across the bridge.

"So much for anything we wanted as a reward. Oh well. Anyone want a pair of boots?"

Garrick approached Imoen and examined the boots closely. "They appear to be enchanted and provide some limited protection against the cold." It was quickly decided that Minsc deserved the boots and he happily put them on.

"Look Boo, the boots are furry just like you." After a serious of furious squeaks Minsc continued, "Boo, I am sure these boots are not made from the fur of hamsters, they must be the fur of evil ice weasels or other icky but furry creatures."

Laughing and shaking their heads the party resumed their trek across the river. At the end of the day a massive fortress, perched atop a lightly wooded hill loomed in view. It was on the other side of a deep chasm crossed only by a narrow rope bridge. Well worn paths headed down the hill, up the hill, and straight towards the fortress from the base of the footbridge.

"My witch is in there."

"Assuredly you are correct, we must rest and move out at first light tomorrow," Jahiera said.

"We must go now to save Minsc's witch."

"J, j- j- j Jaheira is right good ranger. We need the rest and some of you cannot see at night."

"Minsc, I agree with Khalid and Jaheira, we need to be at full strength if we are to save your witch." Minsc glumly nodded at Jeral and the party quickly set up camp. Since they were so close to the gnolls they dared not light a fire and spent a cold night on hard ground.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Rescue - Day 11

At first light they broke camp. Determined to move quickly and expecting combat they left their bedrolls and other camping supplies behind and set off for the fortress. Lightly encumbered they moved quickly and were at the rope bridge within an hour. The bridge looked to be a couple hundred feet long and swayed menacingly in the wind.

"Imoen and I are lightest, so we should go first to test the bridge." At this comment Jaheira snorted. Smiling, Jeral gave a mocking half bow and said, "Dear lady that fact is, of course, only due to your heavy armor and equipment and was not meant to imply anything about the lady within the armor." Khalid openly laughed until he was silenced by a glare from Jaheira.

"Very well, you two go ahead, just be careful."

Imoen and Jeral started to walk across the bridge. It felt solid enough under their feet and they believed that it could safely hold the entire party.

When they were close to the other side of the bridge they noticed a good size hut camouflaged in some trees near the base of the bridge. Noises could be heard from inside the hut and a cooking fire with a vaguely human looking torso on a spit was in front of the hut.

"This can't be good."

"I fear you are correct Imoen. We may want to rejoin the others before we are noticed."

"Good idea Jeral." The two started slowly backing away from the end of the bridge.

A large ogrillion strolled out of the hut. Jeral immediately recognized the beast from his studies back in Candlekeep. The summary about the creature quickly flashed through his mind. _Closely related to their larger ogre cousins, ogrillions are still around seven feet tall and incredibly strong. They crave human flesh and have an excellent sense of smell. _

The ogrillion checked the food and tore a large slab off and started eating it. He turned to walk back into the hut but as he turned he saw Jeral and Imoen on the bridge not four feet away. Snatching up a nearby axe he walked towards the bridge.

In a fractured common the ogrillion snarled "Hey! Me Gnarl, you stop! You pay to walk bridge."

"Uh let us ask our friends."

"Yeah, what he said, wait here we will be right back."

With that Jeral and Imoen turned and raced back across the bridge.

The raced to the end of the bridge and turned to see the ogrillion still walking towards them. Behind him they could see a second creature, wielding a large sword starting to cross the bridge towards the party. The party readied their weapons and Jaheira, Minsc, and Ajantis formed a first rank while the other party members readied missile weapons.

As Gnarl reached the end of the bridge he was attacked by all seven before he could prepare himself. After taking a few blows from Ajantis and Jaheira he was finally decapitated by Minsc and the headless torso fell to the ground. The second ogrillion, seeing the attack roared in anger and charged. Riddled with missile weapons he fell dead at the feet of the front rank of the party.

Imoen quickly looted the bodies and found a handful of gems, a pouch of gold coins and a pair of studded metal and leather gauntlets. Garrick examined them with a practiced eye. "I think there are to make one more agile. I know they are enchanted but I am not completely certain as to their purpose. What do you think Jeral?"

Jeral turned them over in his hands and stared at the gauntlets intently. I believe you are correct sir. These gauntlets will make the wearer extremely agile. Or course some of us are already extremely agile so we do not need them."

Flashing a smile Jeral tossed them to Jaheira. "Why give them to me child?"

Seeking to avoid calling her uncoordinated, and willing to overlook the child crack, Jeral quickly blurted out that her role as a healer made her extremely vital to the party. And since she spent much time in hand to hand combat without a shield this would help, when combined with her ankheg armor, to keep her safe. She seemed to accept this and put on the gauntlets. Twirling her staff a few times it was clear to all that she was more agile than before. She would now be very well protected in combat.

The party proceeded across the bridge and reached an intersection where three paths split off and headed into the fortress. Minsc knelt down and spent a few moments sniffing and eying the intersection closely. He slowly stood up and stated that the gnolls has taken his witch down the center path. There were fewer tracks on the side paths. After much discussion the party decided to stay on the center path since it provided the most direct route to Minsc's witch even though there was no chance to surprise whoever lay ahead.

"Prepare for anything." was all Jaheira said as they moved out. Minsc was in the lead and was followed by Ajantis and Jaheira. The remainder of the party hung a few steps back, and they were prepared to fight with missile weapons. Garrick walked a few steps behind the last rank and frequently looked behind the group to ensure no one could take them unawares from the rear.

After a short walk they came to a crude wooden gate that was adorned with skulls of many creatures. Jeral recognized many human, elven and Halfling skulls as well as other stranger ones that he did not recognize. Imoen was clearly shaken by the skulls. Jeral hugged her and they continued on. The party came to some wide stone stairs that were heavily weathered and started climbing. Ahead they saw three gnolls coming down the stairs. They were large creatures, taller than Minsc and just as broad. They looked like dogs but walked on their hind legs. They were clad in ill fitting armor, clearly taken from previous victims, and wielding an odd assortment of spears and halberds. With a roar the three gnolls charged the group.

Minsc, Ajantis and Jaheira stood side by side on the stairs ready to intercept their charge while the others opened up with missile weapons. One gnoll fell with an arrow in its throat and the other two closed to melee with the party. Since the gnolls were on a higher stair the back ranks could still safely attack the gnolls with missile weapons over the heads of the ranger, paladin and druid. The two remaining gnolls quickly fell to a combined assault with no damage to the party. They ran into two more small groups of gnolls as they climbed the stairs. Both were quickly dispatched. _Less than two weeks ago a single gibberling nearly killed me. I have come a long way in a very short time._ Jeral smiled to himself and felt ready for anything as they continued to move deeper into the fortress.

The party came to a second set of stairs that went into the actual fortress itself. They entered into a long stone courtyard that stretched a few hundred feet to the east. At regular intervals there were large open pits in the floor. There were only narrow ledges on each side of the pit allowing for single file passage across the open air courtyard. A large group of approximately a dozen gnolls stood in front of a large gnoll sitting on a throne. He sniffed the air, pointed at the party and the gnolls all lumbered to attack. The chieftain remained at the back of the pack waving a wicked looking battle axe above his head.

Jeral quickly realized that they must find a way to negate the gnoll's numerical advantage or they would all quickly die.

"We cannot face them all at once! Move forward to the pit so they can only attack around the sides. We must block both sides. The party raced forward and quickly split off into two groups. Minsc headed left followed by Ajantis, Garrick and Jeral while Jaheira, Khalid and Imoen raced right. The reached the narrow ledges on each side of the central pit and prepared themselves for battle only seconds before the gnolls reached them.

The gnolls charged in a mass and came up short when the lead gnoll was felled by a blow from Jaheira's enchanted staff. A second gnoll fell from arrows from Imoen and Khalid. The gnolls milled around in confusion. A roar from their leader, and a few backhanded smacks sent 4 other gnolls followed by the chieftain circling to the other side of the pit. The chieftain pushed the 4 gnolls in front of him. The lead gnoll found himself neatly sliced in half as Minsc took a huge overhand swing with his sword. The other gnolls slashed viciously at Minsc and Ajantis. The two men dodged the most dangerous of the blows but both were bleeding from several small cuts. Aided by Jeral and Garrick they quickly dispatched the three remaining gnolls in front of the chieftain. Minsc was clearly winded and Jeral was running low on arrows. The leader stepped forward and started trading blows with Minsc. Minsc managed to get in a good blow against the large gnoll, slashing into his left arm, but it only slowed the beast slightly.

The chieftan then sidestepped an overhand blow from Minsc and swung his axe sideways. The flat of the axe head caught Minsc on the side of the head. Lacking a helmet a gout of blood spurted from the side of the ranger's head. Minsc was hurled by the impact of the blow into the pit. Ajantis was standing between Minsc and the pit and was carried over the edge by the impact of the bulky ranger.

Drunk with the excitement of battle Garrick threw down his crossbow and drew his short sword with a flourish. Declaring, "Life is temporary, glory is forever!" He charged the gnoll chieftain while singing a drinking song. He ducked under a horizontal axe swing and stabbed the gnoll in the stomach. His sword buried itself in the gnolls stomach and only the hilt prevented it from going completely through the gnoll's torso. Howling in pain the gnoll stepped back and slashed quickly downwards with his axe. Garrick's sword clattered to the ground. Garrick's right hand was still firmly clutched to the hilt of the sword and was no longer attached to the young bard's body. Whimpering in pain and shock, Garrick fell to his knees cradling his stump of an arm. Blood spurted from the severed limb and the color was quickly draining from his face as his life quickly drained out of his body.

Jeral knew he had to kill the chieftan or else they would all probably die in the next few minutes. Swallowing his fear Jeral dropped his long bow, drew his long sword and prepared to engage the large gnoll.

_You are weak and will always be weak. The way of the bard is not a worthy path. The way of the warrior is the true path for one such as you._

Jeral was frozen by the voice he heard in his head. He had heard it before but never as clearly as he did right now. He feared that it was true. He had only turned to life as a bard after discovering that he had limited aptitude for magic and after realizing that life as a mere warrior would not hold his interest. He knew that his decisions had disappointed Gorion and that he hated knowing that he could not even protect his father from death in the woods.

Jeral snapped out of his trance in time to sidestep a wicked slash of the gnoll's axe. In doing do he stumbled over Garrick's now prone body and dropped to his knee. He looked up to see the gnoll preparing to deal the killing blow. He held up shield arm and realized that the small buckler would be of little use against the groll's massive battle axe. Jeral took a deep breath and prepared to die.

Just before the gnoll could strike, two arrows buried themselves in his side. Roaring in pain the wounded gnoll chieftan turned to his left to face the new threat as Khalid and Imoen readied more arrows. Seizing the opening Jeral lunged forward and buried his sword in the side of the distracted chieftan. As the gnoll roared in pain Jeral twisted the sword and slashed downwards. With a howl the creature sunk to the ground and Jeral watched as the creatures innards slowly slid out of its now lifeless torso. Jeheira rushed over, dropped her staff and knelt over Garrick. She ordered Imoen into the pit to check on Minsc and Ajantis. Khalid stood with his bow ready looking back and forth to ensure they were not surprised by any more gnolls.

Jeral slowly got to his feet. Jaheira cast a healing spell and declared that Garrick was alive but barely. His hand was still on the ground and he looked very pale as blood continued to slowly leak from the stump at the end of his arm. Wearily Jaheira got to her feet.

"Jeral, make a fire, and quickly. I need to seal his wound else he will likely die of infection or continued blood loss." Looking down at the bard she continued, "You will live, but there is naught I can do for the hand. Healing abilities far greater than mine would be required to reattach it, and none are here. By the time we reach civilization it will be too late." Garrick only nodded his head numbly, clearly still in shock from the situation.

Jaheira cautiously descended the worn stone steps into the pit to tend to Ajantis and Minsc. Ajantis was unharmed, merely badly bruised and winded from the fall into the pit. Minsc was in bad shape with a deep wound in his skull. It took a healing potion and Jaheira's last healing spell to restore the burly ranger to health.

While Jaheira was tending to Minsc, Jeral quickly made a pile of wood from broken arrows, halberd shafts and other detritus from the fight. Once the pile was complete Jeral started to strip off his chain mail.

"Jeral, I do not think it is w-w-w-wise to remove ones armor right now. We are still in great danger and far from safety."

Nodding Jeral continued removing his armor. "I know Khalid but we need a roaring fire quickly and there is little here to start a fire with the traditional way. I happen to have a short cut."

Muttering a few words Jeral fanned out his fingers and aimed at the pile of wood. Jets of flame shot from Jeral's hands and the pile of sticks quickly transformed into a roaring blaze.

Jaheira stopped and stared at Jeral for a moment. "That was…..unexpected. You never mentioned you had magical abilities."

"Well I do not have many magical abilities Jaheira. And they do not work while I wear armor so I do not use them very often. I can still use wands and scrolls while in armor however as I can use the magic in the item vice the limited magic I control. You needed a roaring fire quickly and now you have it."

Jeral bent down to put his chain mail back on while Jaheira found a broad spear head and placed the end of it in the fire. After a few minutes it was white hot.

"Ajantis, Minsc, please hold Garrick still." The two men wordlessly walked over and laid Garrick down with Minsc holding Garrick's wounded right arm steady.

"Screaming may help." Was all Jaheira said as she laid the spear head against the stump of Garrick's arm. He wailed and screamed like a wounded animal and struggled fiercely but the two warriors held him still. Jaheira eyed her work critically and apparently found something not to her satisfaction for she again placed the spear head back against his arm. The sound of crackling flesh and the smell of burned meat was too much for Imoen and she started to retch. Garrick mercifully passed out after the second application of the spear.

Tossing the spear to the side Jaheira eyed her patient and then stood up wiping her hands on her breeches.

"He will live. There will be no more blood loss and likely no infection. Let us find your witch Minsc and be gone from this place. The screams and smell of burning flesh will surely bring any remaining gnolls down upon us."

Jeral busied himself by picking up the few arrows that he could find that were undamaged. After reclaiming as many as he could find he wandered down the courtyard to the gnoll chieftain's throne. He felt horrible for Imoen and secretly he was queasy as well from watching Jaheira tend to Garrick. As he looked beyond the throne Jeral saw a pile of corpses next to a large black cauldron. As he approached he noticed the cauldron held the cold remains of a stew. Human body parts were clearly visible in the stew. The smell from the stew and the pile of corpses reached Jeral. Overcome by horror Jeral stumbled to the edge of the nearest pit, bent forward at the waist and was sick.

A shrill cry of anger and disgust from within the pit startled Jeral. Drawing his sword he walked around the pit to the stairs and descended. In the pit was a dark skinned woman. She was clad in torn, dirty mage robes and was busily wiping vomit off of herself. She was a short woman, no taller than Imoen, and clearly was a magic user. Her face had the regal bearing of one used to being obeyed. She was pretty despite the haughtiness of her features.

Smiling, Jeral sheathed his sword. "I presume you would be the witch Dynaheir? Minsc will be thrilled that you are safe."

"You have met Minsc? Is he well?"

"We have more than met him; we have traveled with him here to rescue you. As for if he is well I suggest we both check right now, for we have been in fierce combat and Minsc led the way every step. I am Jeral of Candlekeep. It is a pleasure to meet you. Also, um, my apologies for the vomit."

"That is no matter for you have saved me from a terrible death. It is always pleasant to meet ones rescuers. Please take me to Minsc."

The two exited the pit. They saw Minsc standing with Khalid discussing the battle. Minsc clearly was none the worse for wear from the experience and Jeral suspected he had experience suffering head wounds. Seeing Jeral and his witch approach the large ranger stood and smiled.

"Hamsters and Rangers everywhere, rejoice! Minsc is reunited with his witch." He raced over and picked her up in his arms.

"Minsc's witch smells bad but Minsc does not care because she is safe."

"Please let me go Minsc." Quickly he complied.

Laying a hand on his arm she smiled. "It is good to see you too large one, and Boo as well."

I must thank you Jeral of Candlekeep. Not many would willingly follow Minsc into battle for that is generally not a wise or safe decision."

"Dynaheir, allow me to introduce my companions. This is Imoen. She is my sister and also from Candlekeep."

"Nice to meet you."

"This is Khalid and his wife Jaheira. They are both warriors of note and she is also a healer." They both greeted Dynaheir.

"The gentleman on the ground over there is Garrick, a bard from Beregost. I fear he is still somewhat the worse for wear."

"And this is the Paladin Ajantis."

"It is a pleasure to meet all of you. Thank you again for my rescue. In gratitude all I can offer is our assistance. I am a wizard of some skill and I see you lack that ability in your group. And Minsc, well he is Minsc but he is a very capable warrior and ranger. Please consider us at your service."

"I would welcome your skill as well as that of Minsc. And I must not forget Boo as well." That last comment earned a pleased squeak from Boo. Imoen pulled some spare clothes out of her bag. Jaheira made all the men turn their backs while Dynaheir doused herself with a full water skin and changed into clean clothes. Jeral thought two women in matching purple getups was a little much. Imoen always did like her bright colors, even if they made her ill suited to be a thief.

Jaheira handed Dynaheir her sling and bullets so the mage would have a weapon as they set out to exit the gnoll stronghold. Jeral handed her a small block of cheese and a heel of bread that she gratefully accepted. They were both quickly consumed as the mage was clearly close to starvation from her time in captivity. Garrick leaned on Jeral as the party departed. Minsc lead the way followed by Ajantis and Jaheira. Imoen and Khalid brought up the rear ready to support with their bows and ever wary for anyone coming up behind the group.

They ran into a few additional small groups of gnolls on the way out of the fortress but they were quickly dispatched without too much effort. Due to Garrick's injury and their dwindling supplies of missile weapons they decided to return to Nashkel with all speed. They reclaimed their field gear and reached the river by nightfall. Before dark they took turns bathing in the cool waters of the stream. Minsc returned with some game and before too long they all were seated around a roaring fire eating rabbit and venison. Everyone was in good sprits, all save Garrick. Jeral moved to sit next to the bard and handed him a skin of wine. Garrick fumbled to open the skin with his left hand before taking a long deep pull on the skin. Wordlessly he handed it back to Jeral.

"We will be back in Nashkel in a day or two Garrick."

"That is true but what will I do? How can I be a great adventurer with only one hand?"

"You may still sing the praises of others. When I was in Candlekeep bards were some of the greatest chroniclers of history throughout time and across the world. If you hear about it you can sing about it, write about it and make it your own. Besides, how many bards can tell a story of how they rescued a damsel in distress from an evil fortress? And how many bards can say that they were grievously injured while in hand to hand combat with the leader of that fortress? You sacrificed of yourself in order to save the damsel. For the rest of your life you get to be a bard that carries a badge of his honor and bravery. You are a hero."

After a long silence Garrick slowly nodded and took a deep breath.

"Maybe you are right. This may all be for the best. If I am honest with you I absolutely hate adventuring. I hate the dirt and the danger and the sleeping outdoors and I really hate wiping myself with leaves. I am much happier in a nice warm tavern with a plump waitress on my lap while I make music or drink ale. Now I can sing about the adventuring life and never have to do it again. I think you are right Jeral. This may indeed be a blessing in disguise."

Jeral helped Garrick to his feet. "I adjusted your sword belt so it can now hang on your right side. You are doing to have to get used to using your left hand for many things." Garrick nodded his thanks and slowly sunk back to the ground deep in thought.

Jeral stood up and walked away from the bard. He walked to the end of the firelight and looked out at the river. Imoen came up to stand beside him. The stood next to one another in silence for a time. Finally Imoen broke the silence.

"Well we should be back in Nashkel in a few days right?"

"Correct."

"Good. I am not sure I am cut out for this life. I miss Candlekeep. I miss Winthrop, I miss my room, I miss Gorion." Imoen broke down in tears. Jeral comforted her for a while and then placed her in her bedroll where she fell into a deep sleep. As she fell asleep Jeral whispered "you are stronger than you know and I would be lost without you," as he watched her sleep for a few moments. Jeral took her turn at watch, in addition to his own. The night passed without incident and after another long day and a half in the wilderness the party reached Nashkel and headed straight to the inn.

The party rented four rooms. Khalid and Jaheira took one, Dynaheir and Imoen took the second, Garrick and Minsc took the third while Ajantis and Jeral took the fourth room. Imoen and Jeral shared a few furtive plaintive looks but accepted their lodging arrangements for the evening.


	12. Chapter 12

_This is mostly a transition chapter between the wilderness and the Mines. Next chapter will have much more going on. Stay tuned!_

Chapter 12: Partings Day 14

The next morning the party gathered to plan strategy for the upcoming day. Garrick clearly knew that his adventuring days were done. "Well I think it is safe to say that this handsome hero is done with his adventuring days. I plan to return to Beregost and start to sing tales of your exploits. The roads are not safe for one to travel alone, particularly a one handed bard. Will any of you accompany me to Beregost?"

Jaheira was the first to respond. "Garrick, Khalid and I need to investigate the mines. We cannot go to Beregost with you."

"The mines can wait Jaheira. Jeral and I will take you to Beregost. That is what friends do," Imoen snapped.

Jaheira was clearly unhappy with the turn of events. Dynaheir stated that she would prefer a few days to recover from her ordeal. She also needed some time to memorize some spells and reconstruct her spell book.

"So why don't we agree to meet back here at the Nashkel inn seven days from today? At that point we will go investigate the disturbance in the mines. Imoen and I will escort Garrick to Beregost, Minsc and Dynaheir can rest and prepare, and Jaheira, you and Khalid can do whatever you wish for seven days. Ajantis, you may do as you wish as well. Does that seem reasonable to everyone?"

Jaheira was clearly not pleased but she nodded her agreement. Everyone else readily agreed. Jeral and Imoen divided up the gold held by the party and evenly distributed it eight ways. It came to just over 160 pieces of gold per person.

They said their goodbyes and Garrick, Imoen and Jeral got on the road headed north. Once they were out of sight of Nashkel Imoen tossed Garrick a small sack. He tried to catch it with his left hand and failed. Sheepishly he bent over to pick it up. Holding the bag he asked what was in it.

"Gems. I took the liberty of giving you all the gems we picked up on the way. I am no gem merchant but they are worth quite a bit. You should be able to retire and live comfortably for a good long time on these."

"Imoen, they were group treasure, I cannot take them all."

"Sure you can. Jaheira got the gauntlets and armor, Khalid does not need money, Dynaheir just joined us, Minsc does not know any better, Ajantis has no need of material things, and Jeral and I want you to have them. So take them."

Smiling Garrick tucked them deep into his backpack and then closed it tightly to keep them safe from prying hands.

After a long day of walking that was blessedly free from any encounters, the three reached the outskirts of Beregost. They rented two rooms at the Burning Wizard and proceeded to have a wonderful dinner and far too many drinks. Garrick seemed happy to be out of the adventuring lifestyle and thrilled to have a heroic tale of rescue to tell. And he viewed his missing limb as merely a way to add credence to his tale. He was already getting more comfortable eating with his left hand and it was clear that the loss of his right hand at the wrist would be only a slight impediment to his future life. With many hugs and promises to keep in touch Imoen and Jeral said goodnight to Garrick and weaved their way upstairs. Pausing only to change into her night clothes Imoen collapsed on the bed and was gently snoring within seconds. Smiling to himself Jeral tucked Imoen into bed, changed, and climbed in with her.

Day 15

Jeral was awakened by someone tickling his nose. He kept trying to brush has face to stop the tickling but it continued unabated. He tried to ignore it and continue sleeping. The next think he knew his nose was being clamped shut and he could not breathe. Gasping for breath he sat up with a start and swatted Imoen's hand away from his nose. Giggling she leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. "Wake up sleepy head. You need to learn to be a light sleeper to survive in this business." Jeral tried to grab Imoen but she nimbly rolled backwards out of bed and out of Jeral's reach. Smiling they both got dressed to face the day ahead.

Imoen led them to the Red Sheaf Inn. "Why are we going here? Last time we were here a dwarven assassin tried to kill me."

"Relax Jeral. This is the worst inn in Beregost. What better place to watch thief like behavior in action?" Recognizing that this was another part of her training Jeral followed her into the Inn. They ordered weak drinks and took up chairs at a table off to a side of the main room.

"See those guys' playing cards Jeral?"

"Yeah."

Well the gnome wins almost every hand."

"So is he cheating?"

"He has to be. To a gnome cheating with cards is part of the game. Let's watch and see if we can notice."

The two watched the card game in silence for nearly an hour.

"See anything?"

"Not a thing."

"If he is cheating he is pretty good at it."

"Well either that or we are just not quick enough to catch him."

They watched the card game for another few hours while milking their drinks. The game broke up after the gnome had taken a lot of money from the three others in the game. They all stepped away from the table grumbling about the lucky gnome but there was no violence.

Imoen quickly got up and walked over to the gnome. Smiling she started talking to him and then sat down next to him. After a minute she waved for Jeral to join her.

"Jeral this is Golander Jansen. He is a retired adventurer who now just travels from card game to card game."

"Pleased to meet you Golander, I am Jeral of Candlekeep."

"I know who you are laddie, I noticed you the moment you walked in here. You and your sister both. It is hard not to notice two humans who stare at you for hours while you are playing cards. I would be careful about freely giving your name though. Others would gladly run you through to get the bounty that is on your head."

Seeing Jeral's look of concern he quickly continued, "Do not worry; I am not after your head, not at all."

Blushing, Jeral quickly apologized.

"No problem, always happy to help the young get into the trades. I was just glad no one else saw you watching."

"So how did you do it?"

"Do what my dear?"

"You won almost every game, you had to be cheating."

"Actually they were bad card players, I had to work hard to lose every once in a while just to keep it looking honest. So I did not even have to cheat much."

"So how did you do it?"

"Well I did two things."

"And they were?'

"I counted cards. When you play with one deck of cards that helps give you an edge because you can narrow down the percentage of a card being played based on what you have already seen."

"And the other? Well if they are dumb enough to use my deck of cards then it is simple, they are all marked. So I know what card everyone has to play. In addition I keep a few other cards handy just in case. With a slight flick of the wrist a high face card appeared in his hand. With a second barely perceptible movement the card was gone.

"Wow!" Imoen gushed. "Can you teach me, I mean us to do that?"

Golander laughed out loud. "Tell you what, buy me a drink and I will show you a few things."

Hours later they left the bar after thanking the gnome profusely. They made sure to check their pockets to ensure he had not filched anything of theirs. Thankfully he had not and they proceeded back to their room.

"Imoen, you have a lot to learn."  
"That is true. But for at least a few things I need to learn I can learn them together with you. You would never be a good thief but you do have a very light touch and quick hands. So you can likely pick a pocket as well as I can."

Day 16

They spent the next day sword fighting in the woods. Here Jeral's strength, reach and weapons training helped him quickly overcome Imoen. His long sword and buckler clearly outmatched her short sword and no shield. While Imoen was a very strong archer she was clearly was not comfortable fighting hand to hand and frequently said as much while they were dueling. At the end of the day they were both sore and tired. Another bath followed by a good dinner and a few too many drinks marked the end of another good day.

The rest of the week passed quickly. Imoen spent long days working on her thieving abilities. She was a natural at finding traps and opening locks while her skills at stealth left something to be desired. Imoen simply lacked the patience to move slowly, carefully and quietly. Jeral for his part could pick pockets as well as Imoen could, if not better, but that was the only area in which he had any skills at all. They both knew they had so much to learn in so many areas if they were to survive. At the end of the week they said farewell to Garrick again and headed back to Nashkel. As they were leaving, Garrick promised them he was working on a song of their exploits and would play it for them the next time they were in Beregost.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Off to the Mines Day 21

By mid morning the seven adventurers were back together eating a late breakfast at the Nashkel Inn. They gathered their gear and headed to the mines. The mines were only a short march away so they left their field gear in one room they retained at the inn. Traveling lightly encumbered they made good time to the mines.

"I would suggest we search around the mines before we descend into them."

Sensing the logic in Jaheria's statement the party turned west to skirt around the pit of the mine. The continued to circle around the mine site determined to search the surrounding woods first. Southwest of the mine they came across a man frantically carving a bas relief into the cliff side. The carving was of a beautiful elven woman. "This must be the artist Prism." Imoen remarked, remembering a bounty notice from Nashkel. "He is wanted for the theft of some emeralds from the town. There is a reward out for the return of the emeralds. I remember that fat man told us about him when he thought you were the bounty hunter Greywolf." With that Khalid and his wife headed for Prism with the remainder of the group trailing behind.

By the time Jeral and Imoen reached the artist he was in tears and arguing with Khalid and Jaheira. "Please, you do not understand, this is my life's work. This is my muse. I have sold all my possessions for enchantments to ensure I can complete this project. For three days I have toiled with neither sleep not nourishment in order to finish this. The picture is of a lost love. I have filled this work with my life's regret for the road not taken, for risks never ventured. For what could have been. At a critical juncture in my life I lacked the courage to risk my heart and have never forgiven myself."

Jaheira was clearly unmoved. "You have stolen emeralds from the town and must return what you have taken."

"But I only took the stones because only these stones could do justice to my beauty and her piercing green eyes. I must finish, please let me finish. Then do with me what you will."

"Good sir, you may finish your muse, we will not interfere with your life's work,"Jeral replied.

"Jeral see reason, this man is a thief," Ajantis declared.  
"Probably. He is also a passionate artist and this is his life's work. Who are we to quash his dream? Besides, we can return him and the stones once he is done. They are not going anywhere."

"I will be done within the hour, please let me finish."

"Very well you may continue artist, however know well that we are watchng you." Ajantis nearly choked out the words. The group spread out and settled back to watch the artist continue his work.

"None cross Greywolf and live!" The party turned to see a hard looking man stride towards them. He looked like a capable and grizzled fighter and wore studded leather armor with a beautiful long sword strapped to his hip. He was almost as tall as Minsc and nearly as broad.

"I have come for the artist Prism. He is wanted dead or alive and dead is easier for me."

Taking an instant dislike to the bounty hunter Jeral mockingly replied, "Can the mighty Greywolf not wait a few minutes to allow Prism to finish his work?"

"Who are you to dare cross Greywolf?"  
"Actually a better question for you, my poorly named friend, is who wants to pick a fight with seven when they are but one? We have you at a disadvantage." Snarling Greywolf drew his long sword and advanced on Jeral.

"Stay out of this, I can handle it." Jeral shouted at the others. As Greywolf advanced Jeral drew his long sword and faced off against the bounty hunter. His eyes narrowed in on Greywolf's gleaming sword and he realized with a start that is was a heavily enchanted blade.

Jeral started to back up, looking for favorable terrain for the combat.

Impatient, Greywolf leapt forward and slashed at Jeral. Jeral twisted away and was caught with a glancing blow to his side. The blade sliced cleanly through chainmail, skin, and muscle. Wincing in pain he kept backing up. He could feel the blood seeping from his left side. Greywolf soon followed with an overhand slash. Unable to dodge out of the way Jeral put up his shield arm to intercept the blow. His buckler shattered on impact but it was enough to divert the blow as the long sword missed his head by less than an inch. Jeral found himself backed up against a rock outcropping. He saw his friends off to the side looking on worriedly. Giving his best fake smile he shouted, "I am fine; I have this idiot right where I want him." Snarling Greywolf lined up a killing blow. Jeral frantically rummaged through a pouch strapped to his right leg and drew out the wand Imoen had given him back in Beregost.

Rolling to the right Jeral narrowly avoided Greywolf's downward slash.

Pointing the wand at Greywolf's torso Jeral spoke the word of command and a bolt of lightning shot out of the wand and right into Greywolf's chest. Greywolf staggered back, paused and then resumed his advance. His hair stood up on end and a large scorch mark was visible on his armor. Jeral saw the lightning bolt rebound off the far cliff and shoot back through Greywolf's body. It then hit the rocks over Jeral's head and bounced back once more into the large bounty hunter. The bolt then fizzled away and Jeral found himself looking through a hole in the Bounty hunter's torso as he fell back to the ground quite dead. Jeral weakly got to his feet and dusted himself off. Trying to look nonchalant he quickly picked up Greywolf's coin purse and long sword. Walking over to the remainder of the party he flipped the coin purse to Imoen and handed the sword to Ajantis.

"Ajantis, this is clearly an enchanted blade and also damages any it strikes with cold. It will be in good hands wielded by one such as yourself. Wield it with honor." Ajantis nodded his thanks.

"Thanks for that wand Imoen. That came is pretty handy just then." Jaheria approached Jeral and quickly cast a healing spell to close the wound on his side.

The party turned to watch Prism. After a short time he completed his carving. He then placed two large emeralds in the carving as eyes. It truly was a lovely work of art. The image forced everyone to stare at it in awe. Smiling Prism looked at his work, let out a sigh of deep satisfaction and collapsed to the ground as the last bit of life fled his body. Jeral walked over to the carving and plucked the emeralds out of the face. He tossed them to Jaheira. She wordlessly caught them and put them in her pack. Ajantis said a prayer for the deceased and then they left him where he lay.

The group decided that they had best enter the mines before losing any more of the day. After a quick trek they reached the mine entrance. The mine foreman was a grossly obese man called Emerson. He was quite colorful in expressing his disdain for foolish adventures but in the end he let them enter the mine. They realized that the source of any problems in the mine likely came from the deepest level. They found a helpful miner who sketched out a map of the first two levels of the mine. "We don't go down to the third level at all anymore. That level is full of them yipping demons."

Thanking the man, and wondering what a yipping demon was they followed the miners map through the mines. They descended to the second level of the mine without incident. Once there they ran into a large number of dog like creatures. They were about 3 feet tall, walked on their hind legs, had long tails, horns on their heads and wielded short bows or short swords. Dynaheir stated that they were called Kobolds. They were numerous, but other than a few minor scratches they were dispatched without too much injury to the party. Jaheira, Khalid, Ajantis and Minsc waded into them and cut them down in large numbers. After a few more packs of Kobolds and the odd trap they reached the lowest level of the mine. Imoen was delighted to learn that she could detect and disarm an arrow trap and that act filled her with more joy than she ever thought possible. They descended to a level that entered into a natural cavern. The tunnel ended in a narrow rock causeway across an underground lake and ended in another cave mouth.

Sensing that they were near the end of the mystery the party became noticeably more nervous. Ajantis stepped out onto the causeway and started to cross. He took half a dozen steps out onto the bridge. From off to the right four flaming arrows reached out for Ajantis, their fire leaving streaks of light in the darkness. Two arrows whizzed close by but the other two stuck him in his right side. One found the knee joint in his armor while the other entered his side under his shoulder. With a moan he crumpled to the ground and slid off the causeway into the water. Imoen screamed his name and froze. Jeral dropped his weapons and dove in after the paladin. Before he hit the water Jeral shouted, "Kill those archers!"

"MINSC AND BOO WILL PROTECT WET FRIENDS!" Roaring his battle cry Minsc stormed off across the causeway after the unknown archers. Jaheria and Khalid followed Minsc off into the darkness. Imoen fired arrows at the enemy archers in the distance. Sputtering and spitting up water, Jeral hauled Ajantis back onto the causeway. The water was only slightly over his head so Ajantis had not sunk very far. With Dynaheir pulling, and Jeral pushing, they managed to get the paladin back up on the causeway. He was breathing, although he had clearly lost a lot of blood from his two wounds. After a few moments Jaheira came rushing back from the darkness. She had a few scorch marks on her armor where fire arrows had bounced off her ankeheg plate mail. She quickly knelt down by Ajantis. "Jeral, grab these arrows and pull them out when I direct you to."

"Why? Can't you heal him magically?"  
"Of course I can. But the arrow needs to be out of the wound, else it will heal improperly. Now pull."

With a sickening wet sounding tear Jeral pulled the arrow out of Ajantis' knee. The paladin gritted his teeth against the pain but an anguished moan escaped his lips. Jaheira quickly cast a spell and the wound rapidly closed leaving unharmed, but pale, flesh behind. Jeral then pulled the arrow out of his shoulder. As the arrow ripped out or Ajantis a geyser of blood spurted from the wound and coated Jeral's face and torso. Cursing under her breath Jaheira worked to quickly cast a second healing spell. Within moments Ajantis' second wound had healed and the color slowly started to return to his face. Minsc returned from the darkness holding a dozen of the flame arrows which he handed to Imoen. "Fire arrows will help little archer," Minsc boomed.

Jeral's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he took a deep breath. The rich earthy smell of the Paladin's blood assaulted his senses.

"_Blood is power. Welcome the blood." _

A deep voice filled Jeral's mind. With a start Jeral realized that he was licking the blood off of his face and hands. Disgusted with himself he quickly dove back in the water to wash himself clean. As he pulled himself out of the water the others stared at him quizzically.

"Er, sorry but I slipped."

"Well brother, for one who is very dexterous you sure fall down a lot."

Jaheria just snorted in disgust.

"He will be weak for a while despite my healing, we should allow him time to rest."

"Jaheira, we cannot rest here, we are far too exposed. Like it on not we must go on. Ajantis can serve as rear guard while we move forward."

Jeheira mutely nodded. She helped the Paladin to his feet. Ajantis unsteadily stepped to the rear of the party as they resumed their march.

The group crossed the causeway and entered a smaller cavern. The cavern was well lit with torches in wall sconces. The central cavern went straight for 30 paces and then branched out into 3 chambers. The group turned right into the closest chamber. It was clearly set up as someone's residence. Furs and cheap tapestries lined the walls while a large hideous orange and red rug lay in the center of the floor. In the back of a room a large ugly half orc sat seated on a large wooden chair behind a desk overflowing with scrolls and books. He sniffed the air for a second and then looked at the group before speaking in heavily accented common.

"What? How did you get here? Did Tazok send you to kill poor Mulahey?"

"We know not of any Tazok, fiend. We are here to stop your attacks on the miners and your poisoning of the iron in the mine." Jaheira clenched her staff tightly and advanced on the half orc.

"_Her speeches are no better than that of all the assassins,"_ Jeral snorted to himself.

"Intruders! Help my minions! To me! To me!" The half orc bellowed. He then picked up his shield and morning star. Khalid shouted an alarm as a half dozen skeletons and half dozen kobolds appeared to the rear of the party.

"Minsc, Khalid! Aid Ajantis, the rest of us will help Jaheira." With that Jeral drew his long sword and waded into melee with Mulahey. Mulahey was trying to cast a spell but heavy pressure from Jaheira and Jeral continually disrupted his attempts. Dynaheir loosed a magic missile spell into Mulcahey while Imoen peppered him with fire arrows. Minsc bellowed a war cry and waded into the skeletons sending bones flying in all directions with each massive swing of his great sword. Khalid stood safely behind Minsc and engaged the kobolds with arrows. Ajantis, despite his weakened state, was holding his own against the kobolds and skeletons. He was doing little damage but was keeping the creatures occupied as he deftly parried their attacks.

The continuous barrage of missiles prevented Mulahey from completing any of his spells. Without his spells and his allies he soon fell to the combined onslaught of a quarter staff, long sword, arrows, and sling bullets. Once he fell, the party made short work of the remaining kobolds and skeletons.

The half orc's body yielded a clearly enchanted ring and a pair of enchanted boots. "The boots offer protection against lightening. I cannot determine the function of the ring. We can identify them once we get back to Nashkel," Jeral mused. A further search found a map, a note from a contact in Beregost and a pair enchanted short swords. Jeral put on the enchanted boots and continued examining the two swords.

"Hey! Over here!" Imoen's voice rang out in the cavern and everyone raced to see what had caused her to cry out. Imoen was standing over a body that reached up a feeble arm as if pleading for assistance. Jaheira and Ajantis knelt down over the body. After a few hushed words a blue hue encased the feeble man. Shaking his head he slowly got to his feet.

"Eighty and five days have I been entombed in this dank cavern. My thanks for the assistance and the healing. Some help with these chains would be helpful as well." Imoen pulled out her lock picks and shortly had the elf freed from his chains. He stretched out his limbs. He was clad in robes of the deepest blue, although the robes were now stained from months of grime and blood.

"I am Xan, a mage of some renown. I was sent to investigate the iron shortage and you can see my fate. Obviously you have been more successful." The elf was almost as tall as Jeral and very thin. He also has a face that was perpetually set in a distressed frown.

"Ahhhhhhh, there is some glimmer of promise. I see you found my sword, I will be taking that." With a flick of his wrist one of the short swords leapt out of Jeral's hand and floated over to Xan's. Patting the sword fondly he smiled briefly and made a few practice swings. The blade shone fiercely with a blue fire that exactly matched the color of his robes. He quickly sheathed the sword and then the ever present frown returned to his face.

"Well I guess that sword belongs to you good elf. Please come with us as far as Nashkel."

"I thank you for your kindness, although I suspect we are surely doomed."

After a thorough inspection of the entire chamber the group found a number of scrolls indicating that Mulahey had a contact staying at an inn in Beregost. The group knew that would be the next step in order to determine who was behind the iron crisis. Dynaheir also found a number of spell scrolls.

"Jeral, here are scrolls for armor and sleep. I have already scribed both of these in my spell book. If you wish I can assist you in scribing them in your spell book when there is time." Nodding appreciatively Jeral took the scrolls and stored them for future use.

Slowly retracing their steps the enlarged party worked their way back out of the mines.

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy? We save the mines and we cannot even get a thank you out of the mine foreman."

"Jeral, the goodness of the act is reward enough. We do not need thanks from any man."

Jeral could not help but role his eyes at the Paladin's words.

"Boo says the mayor of Nashkel will say thank you and give us a reward."

"Good point Minsc, I had quite forgotten about that."


	14. Chapter 14

_Some changes to the party composition coming up, so read on._

Chapter 14: Recriminations - Day 22

It was the middle of the night by the time the party reached Nashkel. The streets were deserted save for a half dozen sleepy soldiers of the town guard maintaining the watch.

"Well I guess we can get a good night's sleep and then meet the mayor in the morning. No reason to wake him up right now. He will be no less appreciative in the morning." The remainder of the party nodded and followed Ajantis down the street.

Jeral and the remainder of the party walked tiredly towards the Nashkel Inn. A lone figure sat in a chair propped up against the wall of the inn. Hearing the group approach the man rocked forward in his chair, stood up and started to approach the party. He twirled a hand axe in his right hand.

Shaking his head Jeral whispered to the remainder of the party, "When does it end? Everyone make ready, looks like yet another assassin." The party quickly prepared themselves for the advancing figure and likely combat.

"Does this happen with frequency Jeral?" Xan inquired morosely.

"Pretty much every other day lately, someone wants me dead."

"Jeral, to see another with a cloud of doom hovering over their head similar to mine is actually quite refreshing."

"Well so glad the threats to my life make you happy Xan. Can we get back to the assassin who wants to kill me?"

The man walking forward flipped his head back, tossing his hood from his face. Jeral gazed into the face of a grey haired man in early middle age with a jet black beard and long moustache that drooped down below his chin. Smiling evilly he revealed a mouth full of gold teeth as he spoke.

"I am death come for thee, Jeral of Candlekeep. Surrender and your passing will be quicker."

"What? Outnumbered eight to one and we should surrender to you? I think not."

"Why Nimbul has been tasked to deal with the likes of you is beyond me. Very well, this way is always more fun anyway."

With a snarl the assassin hurled a hand axe at Jeral. Jeral's reflexes were up to the task. Without thinking he twisted sideways and the axe missed his head by inches. Khalid was not so fortunate. Khalid was focused on notching an arrow to his long bow and the hand axe caught him full in the chest. The razor sharp axe sliced through the chest plate of Khalid's mail and buried itself deep in the half elf's chest. The long bow and arrow clattered to the ground as Khalid collapsed in a lifeless heap.

Nimbul paused to admire his handiwork.

"How wonderful, one axe, one death! Now it is seven against one. And I have more axes that you have allies!"

Jaheira screamed and dropped her quarter staff to care for her downed husband.

Ajantis, Minsc and Xan charged the assassin while Imoen and Jeral fired arrows. Smiling Nimbul easily dodged each and every arrow like they were no threat at all. Dynaheir added to the fight by casting magic missiles at the assassin. Her enchanted missiles struck the assassin but seemed to cause minimal damage.

As the fighters approached, Nimbul drew a short sword and started to engage Minsc and Ajantis. The assassin was clearly an experienced fighter as he danced between the two larger men jabbing out with his blade. He deftly managed to slide away from each and every attack with ease and found opportunities for quick counter attacks. Ajantis and Minsc were both bleeding from a number of small wounds as they fought the quicker, more experienced fighter. Jeral dropped his bow and moved forward, drawing his long sword as he went. As he approached he realized that Xan was nowhere to be seen. _"I cannot believe that Xan ditched us after all we did for him." _Shaking his head Jeral started to attack Nimbul.

Smiling Nimbul easily parried Jeral's overhead swing.

"Ahhhhhhh so my prey brings himself to the lion's jaws. How convenient, I think I shall kill you now. Unnnnnnnnnnnhhhhh."

Suddenly the smile dropped off the assassin's face and blood started to bubble and froth from his mouth. Looking down Jeral saw a gleaming blue sword point emerge from the center of Nimbul's stomach. Nimbul never saw the short sword enter his body. With a flick of the wrist Xan sliced open the assassin and watched him die at his feet in a pool of blood and intestines.

"Ahhh we are all doomed knave; but you will leave this world before I do." The elf smiled grimly and cleaned his blade on Nimbul's torn cloak.

Jeral quickly collected the assassin's things and then turned to look back at Khalid. Jaheira had removed the axe from his chest and was cradling her husband's head on her lap.

"Khalid, my love. Come back to me." Tears streamed down her face. Jeral knelt down beside her. "Jaheira how is he?"  
"How is he? How can you ask that you fool? An axe buried itself in his chest. He is dead!"

"Milady, can the priests not do anything?"

"I know not the abilities of a priest in this silly little border town Paladin. I suggest you wake the priest right now and find out."

The group stood in a silent observance of their fallen comrade. After a few minutes a priest came running out in his night clothes trailed by Ajantis. After quickly looking over the body he commanded Minsc to pick up Khalid. Minsc gently picked up Khalid and followed the priest into the Temple. Jaheira trailed after the large ranger.

Minsc returned outside. "The priest says he and his acolytes will do what they can. We should come back in the late morning. Jaheira will stay with her husband."

The party entered into the inn. They rented two additional rooms and retired for the night. The pride experienced from clearing the mines was replaced by a deep sense of loss and sorrow.

Imoen and Jeral retired to their room where they both silently prepared for bed until Imoen broke the silence.

"Jeral, is there anything they can do for Khalid?"

"I don't know. I have heard stories that powerful priests can raise anyone no matter what happened to them. I do not know if such a man is the priest here in Nashkel."

"Jeral, I don't think I can do this. I thought it would be exciting to travel with you but there is so much death, so much ugliness. So much blood. I just want to go home."

With the mention of the word blood a chill ran through Jeral's spine. Shaking it off Jeral returned to the conversation.

"Imoen, I understand your concerns. In many ways I share them. But you really have little choice. You can not go home. It is not safe there; even if you had a tome to gain entry. Dangerous people are after me and they would hurt you to get to me."

"So what can I do? I cannot live like this Jeral. I am not strong like you."

"You are stronger than you know. Imoen, once I find out who is after me I will make this right and will get you home. In the mean time I will try and find a safe place for you to stay."

"Promise?"

"Yes I promise." Now let's get some sleep, it is late. Imoen curled up in bed and Jeral held her until she fell asleep. His sleep was much longer coming.

_You need power to survive. Without power and powerful friends you will die. Continue to follow the path that lies ahead of you. You shall be blessed with a limited power to heal. Use it wisely. Follow the blood, listen to your blood, and heed its call._

Jeral slept fitfully as the voice in his head continued to fill his mind with notions of power and blood.

Jeral woke to the sun streaming in the open window. Imoen was nowhere to be found. Judging by the sun it was late in the morning. Jeral called for a bath and spent his time preparing himself for the day ahead. Leaving his armor and equipment behind Jeral strapped on his sword belt and strode downstairs. Imoen and Dynaheir were seated at a table in the common room deep in conversation. Jeral settled into a seat besides his sister.

Imoen looked up with a smile. Evidently her perpetual good cheer had returned.

"Morning bro. Dynaheir is just telling me stories of life as a witch. Magic sounds like fun."

"Well Gorion was a great wizard so magic should be something you are familiar with. So where is everyone else?" Dynaheir responded.

"The depressing elf left early this morning to report back to his kind. He thanks you for his release. Minsc is sparring with some of the local soldiers and Ajantis went to meet the mayor."

"Any word on Khalid?"

"No. The doors to the temple are locked up tight and there is no answer."

With that Jeral settled down for a hearty late breakfast while Imoen and Dynaheir resumed their conversation. As Jeral finished his lunch Ajantis returned to the inn. The young paladin was beaming from ear to ear.

"Greetings all. I bear tiding from the Mayor. Berrun Ghastkill called us heroes and thanked us for saving the mines. He also gave us 900 gold. I tried to refuse the money but he insisted. I also returned the emeralds to Oublek and collected a 300 gold reward for those as well. We do great things this day. Helm smiles upon us."

"Well I guess it is nice to be appreciated Ajantis. Although those emeralds were worth a fortune and I would have preferred to sell them."

"Jeral, they were not ours to sell, I will hear no more on the matter. I spoke to an acolyte from the temple. He said that the priest will see us at sunset tomorrow evening."

"Well I guess we have no choice but to wait another day.

The party spent the remainder of the day and the next in town restocking supplies and awaiting word on Khalid and Jaheira.

As the sun set a small child entered the inn and walked straight up to Jeral. "Excuse me milord. I was told to deliver this note to you." Smiling at the child Jeral tossed him a gold coin. The child yelped with excitement and bolted out of the inn with his treasure.

_Jeral. _

_Khalid is dead and I blame you. I know that you did not directly kill my love, but I feel that he died by your hand never the less. Khalid is a good man and deserves a better fate than this. I am working with those who Harp to find a way to bring Khalid back to life. I know in my heart that this is not his time to die. Gorion was a dear friend of mine and Khalid's and we both owe him our lives many times over. No matter what happens remember his teachings. Your life, and the choices you make, will echo throughout the realm._

_I am sure our paths will cross again. I cannot say how I will react when next we meet. _

_The priest here at the temple has a few items for you. _

_Jaheira_

Shaking his head Jeral wordlessly passed the scroll to Imoen. She hastily read it and then passed it to Dynaheir. Once everyone had read the scroll Jeral spoke.

"Well it looks like we have lost Jaheira and Khalid. The path ahead will be dangerous. Others will die. I have to continue but no one else here does."

"Jeral, you know I would never let you face this alone. Gorion was my father too."

Jeral nodded his understanding and swore that he would never let any harm befall Imoen.

"Jeral, if I want to be a force of riotousness in the realm and prove myself to the Order then I must face a great evil. And from what I have seen you have been drawn into a great evil."

"I am happy that my family misfortune will bring you the possibility of glory Paladin."

"Mince and I, and Boo as well, are freely and willingly in your service Jeral. Mince and I too both have things to prove to ourselves to we are with you no matter the danger."

Smiling at the witch and her protector Jeral nodded his thanks. He then excused himself from the table and retired for the evening.

Day 25

The next day the now smaller party entered the temple. The priest was clearly expecting them.

"Ahhhhhhh, welcome intrepid adventurers and saviors of our town. You must be Jeral and the others. Jaheira told me to expect you. I have a few items for you here that I was told you could put to good use."

Jeral could not wait so he interrupted the priest. "Pardon the interruption good priest, where did Jaheira go?"

The priest furrowed his brow and paused before responding, "I assumed it was all in the note. Jaheira left with her husband on a cart. She is headed south to meet with some Harpers who may be able to raise him from the dead."

"So Khalid may yet live?" squealed Imoen.

"Child, the Gods do what they wish. If his heart is pure and the magic is strong he may yet live. Although one who passed through to the other side will often pay dearly for coming back. Sometime the price is just too high for one to pay. Dark tidings. I will speak no more of this, please wait here." Shaking his head the priest shuffled towards the back of the temple.

The Nashkel priest returned a moment later with the set of Ankheg plate and the enchanted gauntlets of dexterity. After much prodding Ajantis accepted both items and replaced his battered, but highly polished splint mail with the new armor. While in the temple the party also purchased ten healing potions, spending a large portion of their reward money in the process. Each person took two to ensure everyone had some healing available since the party now lacked a healer.

After departing the temple the remaining five adventurers sat down at the Nashkel Inn to determine what was next. Jeral placed a large pile of items on the table.

"In gratitude for what we did for the town he priest helped me identify all the enchanted items we have accumulated. As I suspected, these boots provide significant protection against missile attacks. Since Ajantis is usually in the lead I would think he can put them to best use. We also have two enchanted short swords, they are not nearly as powerful as a moon blade but they are still excellent weapons."

"Minsc does not want tiny swords, Minsc would not know how to use such toys."

"Good point, ok I guess Imoen can take one and I will take the second. I have trained with short swords so I will keep it until we have more enchanted long swords."

"We also have a ring for a cleric or druid, since none of us can use it I suggest we hold onto it until we need it. I suggest we rest up today and tomorrow morning we can head to Beregost to search for this Tranzig fellow." The group broke up to attend to their personal needs and passed a sleepy night in Nashkel.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Moving On - Day 26

A departure at sunrise found the party walking slowly north back towards Beregost.

Ajantis led the way as he proudly strode up the road with his head held high.

Dyanheir and Imoen trailed some way behind the paladin as Imoen quizzed Dynaheir with questions about magic while skipping merrily along. Minsc was nowhere to be seen as he and Boo were deep in the woods communing with nature while patrolling the flanks. Jeral brought up the rear of the group, enjoying the sun on his face as he cradled his long bow in the crook of his arm. The sound of a voice ahead snapped Jeral out of his reverie.

Two men stood astride the road. One was a tall bearded man wearing splint mail, a horned helm, and holding a halberd. He stood mere paces away from Ajantis while a second man in splint mail stood a dozen paces back twirling a dart in his fingers. The man with the halberd placed it in the guard position and addressed Ajantis.

"Hey there fella, this is not your lucky day. "You've had the misfortune of meeting the fastest draw in the west. See than man over yonder? His name is Zal and he is the fastest dart thrower that ever walked the Sword Coast. He is so fast you amd your three friends there have no chance. So why don't you do the wise thing and hand ole Vax and Zal all of your gold. We will also take that fancy green armor of your hands as well. No need to die today. Consider this a tax on traveling this road and nothing more."

Jeral could only shake his head in bemusement.

_What kind of idiots take on twice their number in a stand up fight? Some people never will make sense to me. _

Ajantis slowly drew his enchanted sword and tightened the grip on his shield. "I am Ajantis Ilvarstarr of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. I command you to surrender and you shall not be harmed."

"Vax?"

"Yes Zal?"

"If you can take the one in the pretty green armor I can handle the other three."

"Sounds good, let us begin." Vax took a half step back and launched a fierce overhand attack with his halberd; Ajantis blocked it with his shield and lashed out with his sword. Vax nimbly jumped out of harms way as the strike swung harmlessly in front of the bandit.

Dynaheir was preparing to cast a spell while Imeon prepared to fire an arrow. Faster than Jeral believed possible Dynaheir and Imoen were both down. Dynaheir was cluching her leg as a dart was protruding from her thigh. Imoen had taken one dart in her stomach and a second in her neck. Jeral shot an arrow at the dart thrower and was pleased to see it strike the man in the side. Grunting in pain he turned his attention to Jeral and the bard found himself wincing in pain as three darts struck his chest in rapid succession. Their narrow points easily penetrated through the overlapping chain rings of his armor. Only the padded undertunic prevented the darts from penetrating to a lethal depth.

_This guy just does not miss. _Jeral fired a second arrow at Zal and watched it narrowly miss his unprotected head. Smiling Zal readied a second barrage and Jeral knew he could not survive three more strikes.

_I cannot believe a dart throwing moron will be the end of me._

Jeral stared at his attacker and prepared to dodge any incoming missiles.

"GO FOR THE EYES BOO!"

With a roar Minsc charged from the woods mere steps from the dart thrower. Zal quickly recovered from his surprise, spun quickly and launched three darts at the large ranger. Two glanced off his splint mail while the third dug into his shoulder under the shoulder plate. Minsc did not feel the strike and struck with his two handed sword. Minsc buried his sword in the man's shoulder; crushing his collarbone and ribs as he tore into his body. Minsc had to work the sword back and forth to pull it from the man's torso as Zal slowly collapsed to the ground in a bloody heap. Whirling around Minsc advanced on the bandit still dueling Ajantis. Caught between the two strong fighters the second bandit was soon dispatched. Jeral walked over to Dynaheir and Imoen. He handed each a potion of healing and they were soon back on their feet, shaken but none the worse for wear.

Jeral pulled the darts from his chest and watched the blood slowly trickle out from the shallow wounds. He closed his eyes and focused on the small wounds and he could feel them closing up. Stunned he opened his eyes to realize that he had somehow managed to heal himself. Glancing around to ensure that no one had noticed Jeral calmly went to loot the corpses of the bandits.

"These guys definitely had some previous victims," said Jeral as he hoisted two coin purses laden with gold and small gems. He kept looking and came across two potion bottles. He unstopped each and sniffed them. "Perfect," he exclaimed, "these healing potions replace the two we just used." He continued searching and pulled off a pair of well made leather gauntlets from the corpse of the dart thrower. He rolled them over in his hands and eyed them intently.

"That explains it!  
Holding up the bracers he addressed the others.

"These bracers are why that guy was so good, these are bracers of archery. These heavily enchanted bracers make anyone an expert with any type of ranged weapon. Legend says the wood elves user to equip entire armies with gauntlets like these."

Looking around the party his eyes settled on Imoen.  
"Well sis, you are I are the only archers around, want them?"

"No way, I have enough brown in my outfit from this studded leather armor, those do not fit my sense of style." Shaking his head and chuckling quietly Jeral strapped the bracers on his forearms.

"Hmmmm, nothing feels different, let's try and see how they work." Jeral quickly dropped to one knee and fired off three arrows at a distant tree as rapidly as he could. Smiling he noticed that all three stuck within inches of one another.

"Impressively done archer; Helm shines his light on you this day."

"Not sure if it was Helm Ajantis, but I thank you for the kind words. Let us be off and continue onwards to Beregost."

By the late afternoon the group reached the town of Beregost. Agreeing that there was no time to waste the party headed straight for The Feldepost Inn. They entered the Feldepost Inn and discovered that the common room was crowded with few open seats to be found. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something.

Jeral stopped a passing serving girl and asked why the Inn was so crowded. "It is crowded every night now for the people cannot get enough of Garrick the brave."

Fighting back a smile Jeral continued, "Any who my dear, is Garrick the brave."

"Why sir, he is only the bravest and handsomest hero of the Sword Coast, his exploits are legendary."

"Well I cannot wait to meet this hero." Jeral thanked the woman for her time and went to head deeper into the inn. His progress was stopped by a meaty hand pressed into his chest.

"Hey you there, we do not need any more of your type in here, it is bad enough we have to listen to that one armed idiot Garrick."  
"Heh, you tell em Marl." Jeral looked up into the face of a tall and broad middle aged man. He and his companion both were clearly farmers judging from their tan skin and broad shoulders. Taking a deep breath Jeral forced his face into a smile.

"Good evening gentlemen. I fear you may have confused me for someone else. I am just here to enjoy dinner with my friends. Please let me pass." Jeral squeezed the man's wrist and slowly forced the arm off his chest with enough pressure to discourage any further foolishness. Nodding silently he moved to walk past Marl.

"Do not ignore me you bastard, I will kill you for what you did to me boy." More confused than ever, Jeral turned around to ask a question only to see a meaty fist heading towards his face. Thinking quickly Jeral ducked his head slightly taking the blow full on his forehead. Marl's hand struck Jeral's forehead and Jeral heard an audible crack as numerous bones shattered from the strike. Bending over in pain Marl clutched the wounded hand to his stomach.

Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs away Jeral could not help but smirk at the injured man. "See here my good man, I may not know farming; but I do know about combat and about the human body. The forehead is one of the strongest bones in the body while the hand is full of fragile teeny little bones. That hand of yours is pretty well smashed up now. I suggest you quit while you are behind and head home."

Marl looked up, red faced and quivering.

"I am gonna kill you pretty boy." Screaming in rage he lunged at Jeral. Motioning the others to stay back Jeral quickly sidestepped the angry farmer and kicked out at his right knee as he lumbered past. The knee buckled from the strike and Marl went down hard again.

"Stay down sir, I have no wish to hurt you."

"Hey Marl, maybe he is right, let me take you home and get you fixed up."

"Stow it Durkin, I ain't done with this pretty boy yet." Sighing is resignation Jeral readied for another charge.

Marl stood up and slowly pulled a long dagger from the sheath on his belt. Durkin gasped when he saw the blade. "Marl, put the blade down, you can't win this fight."

Tears streaming down his face Marl advanced on Jeral. Jeral backed slowly away until his back hit the bar.

"No where else to go pretty boy, fight me or die." Jeral focused on the blade and prepared to counter any move from the irate farmer.

Marl lurched forward and slashed out wildly with a huge backhanded horizontal swing. Jeral slid to his left and struck out at Marl's right arm. His blow jarred Marl's arm and caused him to drop the knife. Jeral slid behind Marl and wrapped his right arm around Marl's neck. Using his left arm to secure the hold Jeral started bearing down, determined to choke the large man into unconsciousness.

WHAM!

WHAM!

WHAM!

Jeral fought back tears as Marl started ramming the back of his head into Jeral's face. Jeral's nose broke with an audible crack and his top lip split wide open. Jeral inhaled a mouthful of blood and felt a shiver of ecstasy through his body. Jeral's face twisted into a sneer and his eyes flashed with an anger that was not there seconds before.

"No more mister nice guy pal. I am done playing. It is time you learn not to mess with your betters!" Jeral leaned back, lifting the large man off the ground; as he pulled harder and harder on Marl's neck. After a few seconds Marl stopped ramming his head back. After a few more seconds Marl stopped struggling all together. Jeral closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and tightened his grip even more.

"Uh, Jeral, he is out cold. You can let him go." Imoen moved forward to grab Jeral's wrist. He did not respond to her touch. He just turned slightly to the side so he could better lift up Marl over his hip. After a few more seconds Marl's neck broke with an audible snap.

Breathing heavily, Jeral released his grip and watched as Marl's corpse fell to the floor. The common room was deathly quiet as all eyes were on Jeral and the body at his feet. Jeral stared at the corpse at his feet while licking his bloody lip.

"You bastard! Murderer! You killed Marl."

Slowly and deliberately Jeral bent down and picked up Marl's knife. Testing the point with his thumb he muttered, "This is a good blade." He pointed the blade directly at Durkin. "If you say one more word to me you son of a whore, I will let you join your stupid friend in the afterlife. This was self defense, not murder. No go before I change my mind." Durkin nodded and backed quickly out of the bar. Jeral walked up to the bar and tossed a gold piece on the bar. "Sorry for the mess, this should cover any damages." Nodding the bartender quickly picked up the coin." He tossed a second gold piece on the bar, "ale for me, as well as whatever my friends are drinking." Within seconds a tall mug of ale slid into Jeral's hand. He took a deep drink and drained the mug. Stifling a belch he thanked the bartender for the ale. Tossing a third gold piece on the bar Jeral stared intently at the bartender. "This coin is for you friend; all I need to know is which room belongs to a visiting mage named Tranzig."

"R-r-r-r-oom 9 upstairs milord." Nodding his thanks Jeral strode upstairs. Looking back over his shoulder he said "get us a table, I cannot wait to see Garrick again." Without a backward glance Jeral strode upstairs. Pausing outside of room number nine Jeral considered how best to approach the situation. A number of schemes ran through his mind. Shaking his head he settled on the direct approach. He placed the wand of lightning bolts in his left hand and a throwing knife in his right. Taking a deep breath he rocked back and kicked hard against the door handle. The door lock ripped away from the splintering door frame and the door swung wide open. Jeral saw a small greasy looking man in soiled green mage robes sitting at a desk with a handful of documents laid out in front of him. As the door smashed open he quickly started to rise to his feet and turn around. Wasting no time, Jeral hurled the knife at the startled wizard and it buried itself in the man's side as he rose to turn and face Jeral. The wizard moaned and fell heavily to the floor coughing up blood.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

He muttered through blood frothed lips.

"My name matters not. Just know that Mulahey sends his regards."

A look of recognition flashed across Tranzig's face. "That fool dares rise about his station! Tazok will hear about this. Whatever he is paying you I will double it! No, I will triple it! Please stay thy hand!" Jeral kept the wand pointed at the seated mage while he rifled through the letters on the desk.  
"Hmmmmm, so your bandit friends move around Larswood and Peldvale, that is all I need to know."

"Wait, spare me. Here is my ring of protection and the wand on the desk is a wand of magic missiles. Both are quite rare and are now yours."

"What else?"

"That is all I have."  
"What? No gold, no gems? How do you pay for your room, your travels?"

"Very well, there is a small pouch of gems and coins under the bed."

"Thanks, Jeral reached down and jerked the knife out of the wounded mage. With the knife removed from the wound the blood flowed freely and the mage slowly bled out in front of the bard's impassive eyes."

"Jeral looked under the bed and did not see any pouch, kicking the corpse in anger Jeral picked up the letters, ring and wand and left the room.

Returning to the common room downstairs Jeral was not surprised to see that his friends now had the table right in front of the stage. Smiling Jeral stopped at the bar and handed over 5 more gold pieces.

"For the clean up in room 9. My apologies." Quivering in fear the bartender could only nod, his multiple chins jiggling in the firelight. Jeral walked over to rejoin his four companions. They were all openly staring at him. Jeral picked up the mug of ale in front of him and drained it on one long swig. Wiping his face Ajantis gasped and leaned forward with a start." Jeral, your face is healed. When last we saw you, your nose was badly broken and your upper lip was split in two. They are now unblemished. Jeral reached up and felt his face, the paladin was right. Forcing a smile on his face Jeral lied smoothly, "just chugged a healing potion on my way upstairs, I did not want to scare away Tranzig." Looking to change the subject Jeral tossed the mage's letters onto the table. He also handed the ring and wand to Dynaheir. This ring offers some limited protection and combat and the wand fires magic missiles. Both weapons best belong in your capable hands. Smiling slightly Dynaheir accepted the enchanted items and examined them closely before placing the ring on her finger and the wand in her spell component pouch.

The group all ordered dinner and drinks and quietly sat back awaiting Garrick. Dinner arrived and the group dug into hearty bowls of steaming stew served with hunks of black bread and a sharp white cheese. While the group ate two attractive young women slowly approached the stage. Both women were dressed in matching dresses made of a very sheer red fabric. The dresses were slit high on both legs and cut low in the front leaving little to the imagination. The woman on the left had short red hair and sat down in front of a small drum. She picked up a pair of drum sticks and twirled them around above her head. The second woman had a mass of curly black hair that cascaded down to the small of her back. As she reached the stage she lovingly picked up a harp and started absently strumming the strings.

The audience quickly fell silent and a mood of anticipation hung in the air. The drummer started a slow rhythmic drumming while the harpist started playing faster and faster. The raven haired beauty then announced in a strong clear voice, "Ladies and gentlefolk, you are in for a treat this evening. For tonight you will meet one of the true heroes of our age; a man who not only worked to save the realms but lived to tell the tale. Though grievously injured vanquishing evil, he survived and he is here with us tonight. I give you….

GARRICK THE BRAVE!"

The audience erupted in applause as Garrick strode to the stage. He was wearing a tunic of the brightest blue with black velvet breeches and knee high boots with silver buckles. He looked strong and healthy as he strode to the stage. Jeral could not help but notice the Garrick now wore his sword on his right hip and the long sleeve of his right arm was pinned shut over the stump of his wrist.

With a flourish and a deep bow Garrick started to sing in tune to the music provided by his two lovely assistants. Garrick started with a number of popular drinking songs that had the bar clapping and laughing along with his tune. After those songs he paused and took a deep draught off the mug that was off to the side of the stage. Smiling broadly, Garrick motioned to the drummer and suddenly the music slowed abruptly and became much slower and more solemn. It now resembled a funeral dirge. Winking at Dynaheir, Garrick took a deep breath and started to sing in slow mournful notes.

_There once was a young man with a taste for adventure _

_Thirsting to live life far from home _

_There once was a young man with a taste for adventure _

_Far and wide he was ready to roam _

_One day while in town just living my life_

_I met some friends who offered me a change _

_They took me away for an adventure of a lifetime _

_For a opportunity such as that far would I range _

_We headed South to solve the iron crisis plaguing this land _

_Hoping to make a difference we strode towards danger _

_Along the way our plans did change _

_Westward we headed to rescue a stranger _

Garrick paused and winked again at Dynaheir before continuing.

_Seven we were as we headed West _

_Led by paladin and ranger, great warriors each_

_We continued on into the setting sun _

_Searching for a damsel who was just out of reach _

_Tracking our foe, a powerful tribe of gnolls _

_At the end of a long march a haunted fortress loomed_

_The damsel was there awaiting our aid_

_We all prayed she was not already doomed _

_Crossing a bridge we moved to attack _

_Slaying many a foe we moved ever ahead _

_No chance of retreat, we would never fall back _

_Only two options; succeed or lay down dead _

_After many a skirmish the end was in sight _

_The mighty gnoll chieftain and a dozen of his best_

_Minsc and Ajantis lead the way _

_Followed along by all of the rest _

_The battle was fierce, much blood was shed _

_We cut through many a gnoll and success neared _

_When the chieftain stuck a mighty blow _

_Minsc and Ajantis fell, possibly dead I feared _

_Drawing my sword I leapt into the fray _

_I attacked the great gnoll to protect this land _

_Driving my sword deeply into his hide _

_Roaring and slashing he stuck off my hand _

With the delivery of the last line women throughout the common room wailed and cried in despair.

_Wounded and bleeding my end looked near _

_But my mighty companions pulled me back from the light _

_As they killed the gnoll and staunched my blood _

_I knew I would live to see another night _

_As I cradled my wound and thought about the choices I made _

_I have no regrets about the course of my life _

_The damsel was rescued, the day was saved_

_No more adventure for me, just music…..and someday a wife. _

The last line was answered by a number of women screaming Garrick's name from various locations in the inn. Imoen elbowed Jeral and sniggered, "looks like lefty is doing just fine without us." Laughing Jeral could not help but agree. Garrick wrapped up his performance to a thunderous applause and his two musicians walked through the room collecting coins from the grateful patrons.

Sweaty and flushed with success, Garrick pulled over a chair and sat down with his former adventuring companions. "So did you like it?"

"Boo says you should have mentioned him, but otherwise it was a very good song."

"Helm smiles on you good bard for penning such a noble tale"

"While I do not see myself as a damsel I did appreciate the rescue none the less."

Imoen just smiled and hugged Garrick while Jeral simply added, 'well done good bard. Well done." The party stayed up late into the night catching up with Garrick and filling him in on the events down in the mines and about the attack upon their return to Nashkel. Garrick listened intently and promised to create another song.

Day 27

Jeral slowly trudged downstairs stretching out his tired muscles as he went. He had splurged on the best room in the house and had enjoyed the soft sheets and comfortable bed. For once no dreams interrupted his rest and he would have remained in bed had not hunger pulled him from his rest. Looking around the near empty common room Jeral did not see anyone he recognized. The inn staff were preparing for people coming in for the noon time meal. Jeral helped himself to a stool by the bar, ordered some bread and cheese with some watery wine, and pulled out a deck of cards. He started working on his card tricks, dealing off the bottom of the deck and other slights on hand while he waited for his food.

Jeral was so engrossed in his cards that he did not notice Ajantis and Imoen approaching his table. A purple clad sleeve reached across his face and grabbed a cube of cheese of his plate.

"Morning sleepyhead. I wondered if you would ever get up. Rest of us have been up for hours."

"Sorry, I guess I really needed my sleep. It felt good to sleep in a soft clean bed for once. I feel like a new man."

"Well we have been busy while you were snoring away, at least Ajantis and I have been busy." The last comment caused Jeral to eye the two of them closely.

"Ok, you have my attention, what is going on?"

Ajantis nodded severely and started filling Jeral in on their morning activities. "The Lady Imoen came across me this morning while I was sparring with Minsc. After I completed my sparring, and cleaned up, the lady and I spent some time exploring Beregost. There are two specific items of note. First, we met a flaming fist officer who will pay a substantial bounty for each bandit we kill. Apparently the flaming fist company here is unable to return to Baldur's Gate due to the bandit threat."

"So how can the five of us succeed where a company of flaming fist mercenaries cannot?" Ajantis shrugged his shoulders and continued, "Additionally, we visited the temple of Beregost. They are offering a substantial reward for anyone who can deal with the wayward cleric Bassilus. Apparently he is somewhere to the southwest of Beregost and is killed a number of innocent town folks. They will pay the ransom for his death or capture. I feel we must purge the town of that evil before we continue on our quest to the North."

"If everyone else agrees Ajantis I see no reason why we cannot aid the town before we continue to pursue the bandits."


	16. Chapter 16: Bassilus

Chapter 16: Bassilus - Day 28

After a hearty morning meal the five departed Beregost and quickly settled into the usual formation. Ajantis was in the lead, the perfect image of a paladin. A handsome clean cut warrior with a strong jaw, clad in shining Anhkeg plate mail, visored helm with the visor raised, and a highly polished medium shield strapped to his left arm. The image was completed with a mighty enchanted sword hanging on his left hip. Jeral could only watch in awe as the Helmite lead the way. Minsc was nowhere in sight, off patrolling in the woods and keeping an eye on the party's flanks. As a ranger he was happiest off the trail and despite his large size he could move quickly and quietly through the thickest forest.

Imoen and Dynaheir followed the paladin at a distance. Imoen slung her short bow over her back while she peppered the mage with questions about the arcane arts. Dynaheir moved her hands rapidly showing Imoen the basics of a few simple cantrips while Imoen cooed in excitement. Jeral brought up the rear of the party. He walked slowly along and periodically turned and walked backwards to ensure no threats accosted them from the rear. He held his long bow at the ready, ready to face any threats that emerged from the woods.

The day was clear and unseasonably warm for spring and everyone was sweating heavily as they followed a narrow game trail through the woods. Despite his armor Ajantis maintained a brisk pace and seemed untroubled by the conditions. Jeral regularly drank from his water skin to quench his thirst, and he watched Imoen and Dynaheir do the same. Imoen was whining about sore feet and sweaty under clothes as the morning wore on. Clearly the heat was starting to take a toll on all of them. Near midday Jeral was ready to suggest a pause to have the noon meal when he saw Ajantis abruptly stop and draw his enchanted long sword.

"You surrender or you die."

"You make choice and you make choice quickly."

"Zargal has no patience to wait for slow witted city folk."

Jeral tensed and pulled an arrow from his quiver as he heard a gravelly voice growl out a threat in the common tongue. Despite a heavy guttural accent Jeral could understand the words well enough. Looking past Ajantis, Jeral viewed three well equipped hobgoblins standing in the middle of a small clearing that intersected with the game trail. All three creatures were clad in studded leather armor and two held long bows. While Jeral was taking the scene in Ajantis was already moving forward to the attack.

"In the name of Helm I strike at thee!" Ajantis moved towards the creatures at a controlled jog as he rapidly closed the gap. Both archers aimed at the paladin while the largest hobgoblin moved to engage Ajantis with a short sword. Even at the distance Jeral could determine that the short sword was enchanted. Jeral quickly knocked an arrow and fired at the lead hobgoblin. He smiled grimly as his arrow struck home, striking the creature in the left shoulder. Howling in pain it stabbed at Ajantis as he came into range and the two combatants began to duel fiercely. Imoen, Dynaheir and Jeral focused on one archer, and then the other. Both hobgoblins soon fell to the combined onslaught of two bows and one sling.

Once the archers were dispatched Jeral dropped his bow, drew his short sword, and moved forward to support Ajantis. Ajantis and the hobgoblin were dueling fiercely and the pair seemed evenly matched. Ajantis was successfully using the longer reach of his sword and his shield to keep the creature at a safe distance but he could not get inside his opponent's guard. The hobgoblin responded to every strike with a lightening quick parry or counterattack.

As Jeral stepped forward the creature quickly turned and attacked the newly arriving enemy, perhaps viewing him as an easier target. Short swords clashed as Jeral frantically parried the creature's attacks. The hobgoblin gasped in pain as a short sword stabbed into its back and he spun around to face the new threat. As the creature turned he lashed out with a fierce back handed punch with his sword pommel. Imoen's head snapped back from the strike and her sword fell from her grasp as she crumpled to the ground. Turning from the downed Imoen the hobgoblin turned to square off against Jeral again. Focused on Jeral the hobgoblin was unprepared for a wicked overhand strike from Ajantis. The creature's sword arm fell to the ground as Zargal dropped to his knees and fell forward, bleeding thick black blood out onto the lush green grass. The flow soon slowed to a trickle and then stopped entirely as the hobgoblin bled out onto the ground. Jeral raced over and checked Imoen. Other than a bloody nose and a black eye she appeared uninjured. Helping her to her feet he could not help but chide his sibling.

Imoen spent a few moments rolling her neck and shoulders to ensure she could move without too much pain. "Ok, I am ready to continue on. Ajantis, I thank you for protecting me."

Nodding gravely Ajantis replied with the barest hint of a smile. "It was an honor to do so my lady."

"Stick with the archery Imoen, backstabbing and melee combat clearly do not agree with you."

Wiggling her tongue around in her mouth to check for loose teeth Imoen nodded grimly, "That is a true statement Jeral. Although to be fair, you are not much better. You need to spend some time sparring with Minsc and Ajantis. Maybe you would learn a few things from the two of them." Smiling Jeral nodded his agreement.

"Speaking of the ranger, where is my protector? It is not like him to miss the opportunity for combat." Dynaneir's question brought the party back out of their reverie. The group realized that Minsc had not come to the sounds of the battle and that was a cause for concern. Jeral and Imoen quickly searched the corpses. Imoen located about 100 pieces of gold and three potions that Jeral identified as healing draughts. While Imoen was looting the corpses Jeral closely examined the leader's short sword. Jeral picked up the weapon and took a few slow practice swings. As the blade sliced through the air the blade whistled softly. Furrowing his brow in concentration Jeral turned the weapon over in his hands and scanned it for runes. Smiling he straightened and took a few more energetic practice swings with the weapon. It moved with blinding speed and whistled softly as it sliced through the air. Smiling he twirled the sword in his hand.

"Well I think an enchanted whistling sword is the perfect accessory for the well equipped bard such as myself." Smiling Jeral took his lightly enchanted short sword and placed it in his pack. He then removed the jeweled scabbard from Zargal's belt and placed it on his own belt, spending some time arranging it just so on his left hip. Sheathing his new sword he picked up his bow and nodded down the game trail. "Let's go find Minsc; and then we can find this wayward cleric." With that the four adventurers left the clearing and continued heading southwest. Imoen pulled an apple from her back and munched on that sighing about missing a meal.

After a few more hours of following the narrow game trail Ajantis signaled a halt and Jeral moved forward to stand next to the Helmite. Ahead stood a small grove of trees arranged in a circle around a stone altar and some low stone benches. Seated on one of the benches was Minsc and he appeared deep in conversation with a chain mail clad man who could only be the mad cleric Bassilus. Scattered around the grove were piles of bones and the corpses of various undead creatures. Jeral motioned for Dynaheir and Imoen to remain back while he and Ajantis cautiously moved forward into the grove. Minsc noticed the approaching companions and nodded in greeting. As Jeral approached he could see that Bassilus was sobbing and asking for forgiveness for his actions while Minsc patted him gently on his leg.

The weeping man finally noticed the newcomers. Glancing up harshly he spoke in a loud clear voice.  
"Who are you? Why are you here? I am having a quiet conversation with my family here, how dare you interrupt!" Before Jeral could figure out how to properly reply Ajantis stepped forward holding his holy symbol high.

"By Helm you shall answer for your crime. Your Temple has instructed us to return you to face the justice of Lathlander!"

Upon hearing the name of his God Bassilus flew into a rage and launched himself to his feet.

Pointing at Minsc he screamed, "You tricked me! You are no family of mine! I KILLED my family at your suggestion." The cleric started to back away from the group as he prepared to cast a spell. The three men charged the cleric but could not interrupt his spell casting. With a start Jeral realized that Minsc and Ajantis were now standing immobile, victims of the cleric's power. Bassilus hefted his golden war hammer and advanced on Jeral. As he approached Jeral an arrow and two magic missiles struck Bassilus in the chest. As the cleric recoiled from the blows Jeral saw his opportunity and lunged forward to stab him in the stomach. Bassilus easily turned the blow aside and countered with a short jab with his war hammer. Jeral twisted his body and moved his buckler to intercept the blow. As the hammer clanged into his buckler a jolt of electricity ran through Jeral's body.

_That is quite a weapon, if he gets a good strike on me I may be finished._

Jeral slowly backed away, parrying strike after strike from the deranged cleric. He made no move to counterattack and just focused on defending himself and avoiding a blow from the clearly enchanted hammer.

Parry, step back.

Jeral focused on flicking the hammer away with short swipes of his sword.

Parry, step back.

Jeral snapped his wrist time and time again, diverting the hammer strikes with quick flicks of his sword.

Jeral knew he had no chance to defeat his opponent in close combat so he was stalling until someone else in the party could take care of the mad cleric. Ajantis and Minsc were out of the picture so he was depending on Imoen and Dynaheir to come to his aid and turn the tide of the battle. Bassilus flinched as a sling bullet whizzed by his head, missing his eye by inches. Jeral seized upon the distraction and lunged forward with his short sword. Bassilus chopped downwards with his hammer and drove Jeral's short sword into the ground. Stepping forward he smashed his hammer into Jeral's chest with a mighty backhand swing. Jeral staggered backwards under the blow, quivering as his whole body shook from an electric shock, and backpedaled to avoid a follow on strike. Jeral watched as an arrow struck Bassilus in the shoulder and then a second buried itself in the center of the cleric's chest.

Bassilus staggered back under the blows and coughed up blood as he readied another strike on Jeral. A pair of magic missiles slammed into the cleric's chest, followed quickly by a second pair. Bassilus fell to his knees and slowly crumpled onto the ground.

Jeral looked over his shoulder and saw Dynaheir walking forward holding a wand in her hand. Imoen trotted forward and quickly looted the body. With the cleric dead Minsc and Ajantis regained their freedom of movement and rejoined the others. Jeral struggled to remain upright and counted at least three broken ribs.

Wheezing slightly from his injuries Jeral broke the silence, "Ok I think we need to head back to Beregost. We can visit the temple, collect our reward and I can get some healing from the clerics there."

Day 29

"Jeral, can you believe it? Less than a month out on our own and we hold a small fortune in our hands." Imoen held a pouch heavy with over 1,000 pieces of gold and a few pieces of fine jewelry. The priests in the Beregost Temple were exceedingly generous paying a reward of 5,000 gold for the death of Bassilus. Ajantis, Dynaheir and Minsc had departed earlier to go shopping while the siblings lingered over a late breakfast. Imoen was stuffing bread, fruit, and cheese in her mouth as fast as she could grab it.

Jeral answered and a trace of bitterness crept into his voice.

"Apparently there are upsides to having your father murdered and fighting off wave after wave of bounty hunters." The smile quickly left Imoen's face and she absently picked at her food as the two sat at the table in an awkward silence. After some time Jeral excused himself and headed off to the Beregost blacksmith. He pushed open the doors to the Thunderhammer Smithy and was welcomed with a rousing cheer from Taerom Fuirium the head blacksmith. Taerom was a short man, broad of chest with large arms and a gleaming bald head. A sheen of sweat cover his body as he wiped his brow and broke into a large grin showing cracked and yellowed teeth.

"Ahhhhh, you must be Jeral of Candlekeep. Some of your companions were in here earlier and they spoke very highly of you. What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to see what you carried here. Your shop is known across the Sword Coast."

"Well you are right there young man. Please take a look around. Unfortunately, I do not have any enchanted chain for sale but I do carry various enchanted arrows and an enchanted buckler that would be improvements over your current equipment. That short sword of yours is finer than anything I carry in this shop. In fact I will give you 2,000 gold for it."

"Thank you but no. How much for a couple score of the lightly enchanted arrows as well as the buckler?"

"For you, eh let's say 600 gold."

Smiling Jeral shook his head. "Too rich for my blood my good man. How about five hundred gold instead?"

Taerom rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. "Let's just split the difference and call it 550."

"Done."

Jeral counted out the funds and handed them over to the blacksmith. Shaking hands he placed the new arrows in his quiver and strapped the new buckler on his left forearm. With a wave he departed the store and returned to the tavern.

Jeral entered the tavern and spied Minsc sitting along at a table in the common room. The large man was feeding pieces of cheese to his hamster who was lying on his back gnawing on a large hunk of cheese and Minsc warned him to chew slowly.

Jeral helped himself to a chair and sat at the table opposite the ranger. Minsc eyed Jeral and motioned to his new equipment. Boo says you have some new equipment to help apply the boot of justice to evil. Smiling Jeral could only shake his head in response. Scratching the back of his neck Jeral looked down at the table. "Uh, if you have some time this afternoon do you think we could spar? I could definitely use some practice."

Smiling Minsc slammed a meaty fist down on the table. The table shook under the strain and Boo squealed in annoyance as he was bounced around in a pile of cheese crumbs. "Minsc would be please to practice with little Jeral." Jeral chuckled as he stood up. Standing almost 6 feet tall and weighing slightly more than 12 stone no one had called Jeral little in a long time. But coming from a man who was six and a half feet tall who must weigh around 19 stone Jeral could hardly argue. Minsc gently picked up Boo and placed him on his shoulder as the pair walked around back to the stables.

The pair entered the stables and placed their equipment on bales of hay piled on the sides of the barn. Minsc located a pile of empty feed bags and wrapped his great sword in a number of them, securing them in place with some twine. Jeral removed his sword belt and placed it on a bale of hay. Reaching into his pack he removed his old lightly enchanted sword and wrapped it in burlap. "Why does Jeral not use his pretty new sword?"

"That sword is incredibly sharp and I worry it would cut through these wrappings too easily. I do not want to risk you getting hurt. You have saved my life too many times already to risk you getting hurt."

Minsc chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that shook the large man. "I am not too concerned about you hurting me Jeral. Minsc and Boo have watched you fight. You have spirit, however you have much to learn about fighting."

Jeral looked at the large man with a glare and the ranger surprised him by responding quickly. "Do not be sad little Jeral. You shoot arrows very well, as well as Minsc in fact. We can teach you the way of the warrior in close combat as well. Although at some point you need a bigger sword. Where I come from only children wield swords of such a tiny size." Smiling tightly Jeral stood and faced the large man. The pair stood and saluted one another before they began.

Jeral lunged in to stab at the ranger's stomach. Minsc blocked the blow easily and slid to the right away from Jeral's sword arm. Reversing his grip Minsc slashed out with a sweeping horizontal swing. Jeral threw himself backwards and watched as the padded weapon grazed his tunic. Struggling to regain his balance Jeral dodged from side to side as Minsc pressed his advantage home. Jeral threw himself forward and tucked into a forward roll. From his knees he slashed at the ranger's left knee. The big man deftly raised his leg up and watched as the weapon swung helplessly under his foot. Switching his balance Minsc smashed his leg down and pinned Jeral's weapon to the ground. Swinging his sword downward he smashed it into Jeral's side and smashed the man into the side of the barn.

Jeral struggled to his feet eyed the ranger wearily. Wiping the sweat from his brow Jeral smiled at the ranger. "I thank you for the lesson my friend. That is enough for today."

Walking back inside Jeral shook his head in despair.

_There is no way I can avenge Gorion's death unless I get much better with a blade._

Gorion's killer was more than a match for Minsc and Jeral was not a match for him at this rate. Jeral was awake for a long time thinking on that before sleep finally brought him peace.


	17. Chapter 17: Damsel in Distress?

Chapter 17 – Damsel in distress? – Day 30

First light found the five on the road heading north from Beregost in search of the bandit camp. Ajantis proudly showed off his new great shield. He had purchased it from the Thunderhammer Smithy in Beregost. The shield was lightly enchanted to provide additional protection in melee combat. Due to the great size of the shield as well as some additional enchantments it was incredibly effective against missile weapons.

Combined with the paladin's enchanted boots, enchanted bracers, and ankheg plate mail the Helmite was now almost impervious to missile weapons; and well protected from all other threats.

Dynaheir contentedly read through her spell book organizing her new spells. She had purchased quite a few spells using her funds as well as those from her ranger companion. Minsc stated that he needed very little so long as he had hamster food and a witch to protect. For her part Imoen gleefully carried her new enchanted short bow and wore a garish necklace of large pearls with an inlay of gold and silver.

Jeral still carried a purse heavy with coin as he could yet afford an enchanted long bow or another wand. His purchases the previous days left him over 500 gold on hand. As had become standard while on the march, Ajantis led the way, Minsc prowled in the woods switching back from one flank to the other and Jeral brought up the rear covering all with his long bow. Imoen and Dynaheir remained in the middle of the column enjoying their walk north.

The party followed the road and reached the Friendly Arm Inn by early afternoon. They encountered little traffic on the road. Casual travelers feared attack from the bandits that prowled the woods; so only heavily protected merchant caravans braved the roads of late. The party reserved three rooms for the evening. Imoen and Dynaheir shared a room. Jeral volunteered to room with Minsc, leaving Ajantis the luxury of some privacy for the evening. After a simple dinner of venison stew and a very nice ale the party retired to their rooms for some badly needed rest. On the morrow they would resuming their search for the bandit camp.

Day 31

Based on a suggestion from Bently Mirrorshade the party left the road and set off north east through the forests. The woods got progressively thicker and thicker as Ajantis followed a narrow winding game trail deeper into the woods. The entire group realized that they were entering an area regularly patrolled by ruthless bandits and that success or death were the only likely outcomes from their current course of action. Dynaheir carried her wand of missiles at the ready while Imoen held her new bow with an arrow in her off hand. The pair's reverie on the trail from previous days was not in evidence today. The group moved in silence, making an attempt to be as quiet as possible. The sun slowly rose in the sky as the morning gave way to mid day.

The quiet of the forest was shattered by a woman's scream. The piercing shriek caused birds to take flight from every tree in view as the party quickly readied their weapons. The sound of someone crashing through the undergrowth drew the group's attention as the sound quickly approached. Jeral knocked an arrow and waited for a clear target.

The arrow never left his bow.

"Help me! If you don't help me they'll kill me" The party watched as a cloaked woman emerged between a pair of trees. Clad in dark chain main and holding a mace and small shield the woman was of average height, thin, and quite shapely.

Jeral and Ajantis quickly moved forward and stood in front of the woman. Smiling Ajantis spoke as calmly as he could. "Calm down good lady. We will help you, do not fear. Just tell us who you are. Who is trying to kill you?"

She bent forward slightly and took a few deep breaths to compose herself. She quickly straightened up and spoke in a melodious, almost sultry, voice. The fearful, helpless victim voice was no longer in evidence.

"My name is Viconia. Safe to say I am not from around here. I thank you so much for helping."

She pulled back her hood to reveal dark skin of an inky blue/black hue and long shimmering silky white hair that hung down to just past her shoulders.

Jeral sucked in his breath while he realized he was looking at a dark elf – a very beautiful dark elf, but still a dark elf. Jeral recalled from his studies that the drow are an evil race noted for their brutality, treachery, and dedication to the spider goddess Lloth.

"Step away Jeral. I must deal with this foul creature before we are all overcome!" Jeral looked over to see Ajantis drawing his long sword. Jeral stepped between the paladin and the drow and placed a firm hand on the paladin's sword arm.

"Hold on Ajantis. We know nothing about her; let's not rush to judge. She appears to be alone."

"Fool! Do not interfere. She is drow and as such must be destroyed in the name of Helm! All worshippers of the spider queen must die!" Ajantis was shaking with rage and straining to draw his sword. Jeral tightened his grasp on the paladin's arm and leaned forward, matching the larger man him strength for strength, and refused to move. The two men glared at one another and Ajantis struggled to draw his sword.

"The archer is not the fool Helmite, you are," Viconia sneered at the enraged Ajantis, every word dripping with disdain. I am no longer a follower of the spider queen. I am exiled from my home and my people. I merely wish to make my own way on the surface and build a new life. I am sure that your watcher God can see as much himself."

"Do not speak of my God fowl creature!"

Smiling sweetly she stared directly at the paladin and twirled her mace in an intricate series of combat forms, the likes of which Jeral had never seen before. "I have no cause to quarrel with you pious one, however I will grant your wish for death should you so choose. Viconia DeVir retreats from no pathetic male and is not easily overcome."

"STOP IT!" Dynaheir's shout startled all the parties into staring at her. Pointing at the paladin she continued. "We are after the bandits threatening the countryside. We are moving farther and farther away from the temple at the Friendly Arm Inn. And we have need of a healer. Look at her. She is clearly a cleric, and as such could aid us in our quest. At a time such as this you must focus on the greater good and our commitments to aid the people against this menace!"

"Who do you follow if not Lloth?"

"For now just know I follow another." Dynaheir nodded in reluctant acceptance at the drow's response.

"Boo says the pretty dark one will be a good companion. Dynaheir is as smart as Boo to see that she can help us overcome evil in these lands." Dynaheir grimaced at the comment but maintained her fierce glare at Ajantis.

Ajantis nodded and reluctantly let go of his sword hilt. Shaking off Jeral's restraining hand he turned to face the drow. Glaring at Viconia he spoke through gritted teeth as he pointed a gauntleted finger in front of her face.

"Very well, she may join un for now in order to aid the greater good. But know this fiend. I am watching you for any signs of evil. And once we dispose of the bandits we will reconsider this unholy alliance."

The sounds of sticks breaking and leaves rustling drew everyone's attention back to the tree line where they first viewed the drow cleric.

"Ahhhhhh, here comes my pursuer," purred Viconia "how the tables have turned." Bursting from the woods came a plate clad man walking quickly and deliberately towards Viconia. He wore the scarlet and gold livery of the Flaming Fist and carried a long sword and shield at the ready.

"I am the law! Step aside travelers. I am a member of the Flaming Fist. The woman you are harboring is wanted for murder of the foulest sort. She is a dark elf; it should be obvious that she is evil."

"He lies, I've done nothing wrong!" cried Viconia, using what Jeral had already labeled as her helpless voice again.

Jeral stepped in front on Viconia and glared at the Flaming Fist mercenary. "What do you intend to do once you have her?"

"Why kill her, of course."

"We cannot allow that. Is there no other way?"

"Enough talk, for harboring a murderer I sentence you to death! All of you!"

Undeterred by his clear numerical disadvantage the Flaming Fist mercenary attacked.

He slashed at Jeral, forcing the bard to roll out of the way. Minsc waded in and started dueling with the plate clad mercenary. Ajantis hung back, clearly ambivalent about fighting a representative of the Baldur's Gate militia to aid the drow. Imoen and Dynaheir also hung back worried that their missile weapons would accidently strike the large ranger. Leaving his long bow on the ground Jeral drew his whistling short sword and charged the mercenary. He and Minsc slowly forced the mercenary on the defensive as he focused on defending himself against a two handed great sword and an enchanted short sword.

This keen focus allowed the mercenary to parry each and every attack from the two. However, that same focus ensured that the mercenary lost complete track of Viconia. The drow calmly circled around behind the mercenary and struck him with her mace between his shoulder blades. The rusty mace shattered against the place armor as the mercenary whirled around to face the new threat.

"Now you die foul temptress!" The mercenary swung at Viconia and she managed to push the blow to the side with her small shield. Jeral stabbed up through the lightly protected shoulder joint and was rewarded as his sword sank in, almost to the hilt. He quickly pulled the blade back out and a geyser of blight red blood pulsed out in waves. The mercenary groaned and fell to his knees as his life blood poured out onto the forest floor. With one last gasp he released his sword and fell forward onto his stomach. Jeral watched impassively as the flow of blood slowed to a trickle and then stopped entirely as the man died on the ground.

Viconia nodded quickly to Minsc and Jeral. "I thank you both for your assistance. As the mage noticed, I am a cleric of no small skill. Seeing as I find myself in dangerous and unfamiliar lands without allies I have need of your assistance. Therefore, I, Viconia the last of the great House DeVir, offer my services to you archer for as long as you will have them."

Smiling Jeral nodded his acceptance of the offer. I welcome you to join with us Viconia of House DeVir, I am Jeral. This is my sister Imoen, the lady Dynaheir, her protector Minsc and his furry friend Boo. And the unhappy looking gentleman over there is Ajantis, a squire in service of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. Viconia made eye contact with each in turn before speaking again.

"It is a pleasure to meet most of you. I am very pleased to see members of the stronger sex amongst you. I trust that Imoen, Dynaheir and I can keep you lowly males from making too many errors. So why are you wandering deep in the woods anyway? From what little I have learned roaming these lands, there is a band of bandits making their home in the woods somewhere to the northeast."

"If you must know drow, we are searching for that very bandit camp to put an end to the raids plaguing these lands."

"Well that is very well and noble Helmite. And exactly how did the five of you expect to take out an entire camp of what are likely well organized, heavily armed bandits?" Smugly the paladin twisted his handsome face into a scowl and sneered at the drow, "do not worry drow, Helm shall provide."

"Ahhhh so Helm shall provide. I have heard much about the watcher God. He is one of the most powerful surface Gods. I cannot wait to see his will aid this venture."

"Speak not of my God, fiend!"

"Eh, you bore me Helmite." Turning she fixed Jeral with a stern gaze.

"Archer, you lead this party, do you not? I have pledged my service to you and this group; keep your pet squire in line." Viconia turned with a sneer to face the paladin, "And I will only say this once more fool so listen well. I no longer worship the Spider Queen. I willingly cast aside my faith, rejected the Spider Queen and fled from her realm. I now follow the Lady of Loss."

"A Sharran priestess! That is little different than serving as a devotee of Lloth!"

"Enough! She is right Ajantis. We need her assistance if we hope to defeat the bandits and survive. So you must put aside your hatred for her race and judge her on her actions alone. Just pretend she is Drizzit."

"Jeral, I do not believe there are any drow who are not consumed by evil and I for one do not believe that this Drizzit even exists. A heroic drow doing good deeds? Why the entire idea is preposterous."

"Ajantis, regardless of how you feel she will be with us for a while; and as for Drizzit many of his adventures are well chronicled and corroborated from reputable sources. When next we are in Candlekeep I will show you the tomes personally."

Ajantis shook his head angrily, took a deep breath, and stared at the ground for a long time. Jeral was starting to wonder if the paladin had fallen asleep when he finally spoke.

"Very well Jeral. It is true we need allies, and we have need of a healer as well if we are to overcome the dangers ahead. I will reluctantly agree to this temporary alliance. But understand this, all of you. When the bandit threat is ended we will continue this discussion and you may not like where it leads."

Shouldering his way past Jeral he resumed his position at the head of the group and continued deep into the woods.

"I apologize for the squire's behavior. His thinking can be quite rigid at times."

"I thank you all for your assistance. I am generally capable of protecting myself, however I am still learning about your surface ways and dangers. And right now I find myself in an unfamiliar area without a weapon." Viconia held up her mace handle and tossed it disdainfully into the underbrush. "Your surface arms and armors are pathetic."

Smiling Jeral lowered his pack and started rummaging through it. "I have been carrying this since we took it off an evil cleric. That should make it a perfect fit for you if Ajantis is right about you." Smiling Jeral tossed the war hammer to Viconia. She deftly snatched it out of the air and took a few practice swings.

"To a drow the greatest gift is one taken by force or guile, not something freely given. Therefore, I prefer a weapon that I take from my enemies, and not one handed to me. However, given my current predicament I will accept and put this weapon to good use until I find something more suitable and appropriately gained."

"I supposed that is what passed for thanks among the drow so I will let the lack of gratitude pass. By the way the weapon is heavily enchanted and shocks any it strikes." Viconia smiled and strode off after the paladin taking practice swings with the weapon as she walked. Dynaheir and Imoen fell in behind the drow and Jeral resumed his position bringing up the back of the line.

Jeral walked along and spent some time pondering his new ally. Jeral was as familiar with the drow as any surfacer could be. The great library of Candlekeep had some dozen tomes on the dark elves, which was more than any other known collection in the realms. In each and every book the author focused on the darkness of the drow and their blood lust for power. Gorion also regaled Jeral with tales of Drizzit the drow ranger when he was little so apparently the drow had the capability for good, even if only in rare cases.

As Jeral walked he took in the drow. She was taller than Dynaheir and Imoen but smaller framed than both. She had the lithe graceful lines of an elf and from Jeral's view she had curves in all the right places. She was not a rogue but she walked as smoothly as Imoen, with her feet making almost no sound on the forest floor. Jeral could not help himself, he was definitely intrigued by the newcomer and recognized that could cause issues with Ajantis down the road.

The twang of multiple bow strings shocked Jeral out of his day dreaming. He looked up and saw about a half dozen bandits attacking Ajantis. Jeral knocked an arrow and took a snap shot at one of the bandits. Jeral smiled grimly as his arrow buried into the bandit's chest and he crumpled to the ground. Minsc roared out of the underbrush and joined Ajantis in close combat with their enemies. Minsc and Ajantis were holding their own.

Even though the two warriors were outnumbered they were able to cut through the leather clad bandits with ease, relying on their heavier armor and greater skill at arms. Before Viconia and Jeral could close with the bandits Ajantis and Minsc were standing over a pile of bloody corpses with nary a scratch between the two.

Imoen looted the bodies and found a handful of gold coins and little else of value. "Well we got a little gold and we can restock our arrows but nothing else interesting. So what is all the fuss about a bandit menace? These guys do not seem so tough."

"They are likely just new recruits and weaker members of the group. I would expect that the stronger bandits are either out raiding caravans or patrolling closer to the camp. As we get closer I suspect the enemy will get stronger."

"Boo says Dynaheir is very smart and we should be ready for more danger."

"Do not fear good ranger, Helm shall protect us on our noble quest." Ajantis cleaned his sword on a bandit's tunic and continued his way deeper into the woods. Sobered by the thought of more dangerous opponents the group spread out and moved forward quietly.

Late morning gave way to mid day and mid day yielded to afternoon. The party stopped only briefly to drink water from their skins and eat some dried meat and hard cheese.

"It's your choice which hits the ground first, your swords or your heads. Be smart now and you'll all live to grow wiser!"

A battle scarred, chain clad bandit swaggered his way towards Ajantis. Behind him a half dozen bandit archers drew down on the paladin. The lead bandit slowly drew his bastard sword and held it in a low guard position as he closed with Ajantis.

"By Helm I will drop my sword for no mere brigand."

"As you like it, fools! Your children be orphans tonight." Ajantis crossed swords with the brigand while Minsc charged the archers. All six bandits calmly aimed at the charging ranger and loosed arrows. Minsc staggered from arrows striking his leg, arm and stomach.

Roaring in rage Minsc shook off the strikes and closed with the leather clad bandits. His two handed sword tore through their ranks aided by arrows from Imoen and Jeral. Ajantis felled the lead bandit and quickly joined Minsc in close combat. The two heavily armed fighters soon dispatched the last bandits.

Minsc, breathing heavily, dropped his great blade and sat down heavily.

"Minsc must rest. Pointy arrows of evil make Minsc weak." Jeral watched as blood continued to seep out of his wounds. The arrow in the ranger's stomach clearly had done significant damage. With a moan Minsc slid to the ground and passed out. His hamster crawled out of the large man's pocket and sat on his chest squeaking sadly.

"Minsc! He is dying! We must stop the bleeding and heal him." Dynaheir raced to her companion and sat down cradling his head.

"Mage, I can save your male if you wish." Dynaheir looked up at Viconia through tear streaked eyes and nodded. "Then do so and quickly! Minsc must live." Viconia stepped up and knelt down by the ranger and started barking orders. "Helmite, thief, you two watch for other bandits while I tend to this unwashed mountain of a man. Archer come here. When I command it remove one arrow at a time." Jeral quickly came over and squatted next to the cleric.

"You must pull the arrows out one at a time when told to do so. You cannot push them through since they are sitting on bone. If the one in his stomach is pushed out his back it would likely kill him. After you rip one out I will close that wound. We will then move onto the next wound. The stomach wound is the one that will kill him if left unattended so we will start with that one."

Jeral grasped the shaft of the arrow as close to the wound as possible and looked at Viconia. She nodded and Jeral pulled the arrow smoothly out of the ranger's body. Blood, muscle and bits of intestine clung to the arrow head as it tore out of the man's body with a sucking sound. With the arrow removed the blood streamed out of the wound more quickly. Viconia spread her hands over the wound and started chanting under her breath, invoking the power of Shar.

A dark purple haze emanated from her hands and spread over the wound. Jeral watched in amazement as the injured muscle knitted together before his eyes, followed by the skin. When the cleric was done a pale patch of skin was the only evidence of any wound to the ranger's torso. Color also returned to the ranger's face and his chest slowly rose and fell.

"My protector lives. You have my thanks Viconia." Nodding wearily the drow directed Jeral to remove the arrow in his leg followed by the one in his shoulder. After she healed the other two wounds she stood and stretched. "The large one will be fine. He needs sleep, as do I. We can move no further today so make camp here. Archer, I require food and rest. So prepare a meal so I can restore my strength before I sleep."

Putting a hand up to stifle a protest from Ajantis Jeral replied with a chuckle. "Camping here makes a lot of sense. We would have a hard time moving Minsc anywhere ourselves. Ajantis will you take the watch while Imoen and I gather firewood and prepare dinner? Dynaheir, please go through my pack and find suitable bedding for Viconia."

The paladin nodded grimly and stalked off into the woods while Dynaheir dug through Jeral's pack. Imoen and Jeral worked to start a small campfire and prepare a meal. Once the stew was cooking Imoen and Dynaheir walked around the perimeter of the camp. As they walked Dynaheir set up minor warning cantrips while Imoen set some crude snares.

"Well done you two. Those should help warn us should another enemy approach." Both women nodded appreciatively at Jeral as he continued to make dinner. Once dinner was prepared Jeral ladled out bowls of stew to Dynaheir, Imoen and Viconia. He prepared two additional bowls for himself and Ajantis and set off in search of the paladin. He found Ajantis about 30 yards from the camp perched on a large rock. He was polishing his sword with a rag.

Jeral walked up to stand next to the paladin and wordlessly handed him a bowl and spoon. "Better get it while it is warm. I make pretty good stew but it tastes terrible cold." Ajantis nodded grimly and started eating. Jeral started on his stew and the two men ate in silence. Once finished Ajantis handed the bowl back to Jeral and resumed polishing his sword.

"I thank you for the meal Jeral. And know that I have thought deeply about your words and I prayed on it. Viconia must leave the group as soon as we have vanquished the bandits, else I will kill her. There is no other option. Merely being in her presence may pull me away from my faith. I cannot take such a chance."

A number of responses raced through Jeral's mind and they ranged from sarcastic to deep and philosophical. None seemed appropriate. Instead he patted the paladin on the shoulder and walked away.

Before he was out of earshot Jeral called out "If we live through the morrow we can discuss her fate at that time. You have first watch. Wake me for my shift."


	18. Chapter 18

_I always love the attack on the Bandit Camp. So much fun._

Chapter 18 – The Raid - Day 32

The sun was just starting to show over the horizon as the group slowly crept forward. The grass was wet with morning dew and muffled their steps as they moved forward guided by Jeral.

"Ok, the camp is a couple hundred yards ahead of us. We are going to enter on the eastern edge of the camp. I watched a large contingent of about 50 bandits depart, presumably to raid more caravans and establish ambushes on the main road. Based on the number of huts and buildings in the camp I think that there are probably no more than two or three dozen bandits left. Most of the bandits are human but there are a group of hobgoblins known as the Chill and a tribe of gnolls penned up in a cave on the North side of the camp."

Minsc visibly tensed at the mention of the Gnolls. Dynaheir patted the man on his forearm and the large man quickly calmed down from her touch. "Remain calm my protector, I suspect you will have opportunity enough very soon to meet your enemy."

Jeral smiled and bowed towards the ranger's witch.

"Dynaheir, your invisibility spell worked perfectly. I was able to get up nice and close and no one was any the wiser as I strolled through that camp. So long as I moved slowly and quietly I was able to walk the entire length of the camp."

The mage nodded and smiled tightly. "Of course it worked perfectly, I cast the spell."

"That is all interesting news archer but we are only six, so two or three dozen is still a number that should cause some concern. The mage lacks spells to conceal us all and we will need surprise to have any hope in overcoming the threat ahead."

"Jeral, I hate to say it but the drow is correct, we must have a plan. Minsc and I cannot just lead a charge into the camp, for that would be a slaughter."

"I agree with both of you. The best plan is often the easiest. I think we will need to start at one edge of the camp and slowly move through and do our best to kill everyone we see before they can raise the alarm. If we do it right we can deal with the bandits in small manageable groups before they can overwhelm us with sheer numbers. Failing that we can set fire to some of the buildings and escape in the confusion. It has not rained in a few days so the huts should burn readily."

"Jeral, that is not acceptable, our enemies must be afforded the opportunity to surrender, to do any less would be unchivalrous."

Jeral could only shake his head in frustration. Fortunately for all Viconia had the common sense to remain silent although she did make eye contact with Jeral and raise a thin white eyebrow in disdain.

"Ajantis, I understand your concern for your code of chivalry, your Order is renowned for it. However, you must consider the situation. We are far from any assistance and we are few against many. If we fight fair then we die, and the bandits will continue their raids unchecked. We will do what we can to respect your code but if there comes a time we have to break it we will. Now be quiet and follow me. Imoen and I will lead the way and we will take as many out as we can quietly with our bows."

Imoen and Jeral readied their bows and led the party into the camp. They paused at the tree line and peered out into the camp. Smoke drifted up from a number of different huts and open cook fires. A lone bandit walked the perimeter of the camp with a short bow slung over his back, he whistled merrily as he strolled along.

Imoen snorted, "Well that guy is hardly alert. Seems almost a shame to kill him"

"Shame of not there is no other way, besides he would not hesitate of the roles were reversed. You ready? I do not see any other sentries on this side of the camp so let's do this. On three. One, two, three."

Two bow strings thrummed in near harmony as Imoen and Jeral fired at the bandit sentry. Jeral's arrow struck low in his stomach while Imoen's arrow tore into his throat and ripped out the back to bury itself in a tree. With a moan he collapsed to the ground and lay still.

"Nice shot sis." Imoen merely winked in reply and kept searching for more targets. A second sentry rounded into view walking casually between a pair of tents. The siblings tracked their target and allowed him to continue getting closer. The sentry tensed up as he spotted his colleague crumpled on the ground. The blood and arrow shafts showed that the man was killed by a threat to the bandit camp. The man turned on his heel and started running.

"Imoen, NOW!"

Jeral and Imoen shot at the same time again. This time with a moving target Imoen's arrow flew wide of its target while Jeral's struck the man in the middle of his back. Howling in pain he stumbled to the ground and struggled to rise, shouting in panic as he did so.

"To me boys! We are under attack!" The last words were cut short as two more arrows struck into his back. With a moan the second sentry fell to the ground.

"Well so much for surprise. We had best make ready."

"I may have something to assist Jeral." Dynaheir started chanting and uttered a few arcane words of power. As she completed the spell everyone in the party felt a tingling sensation throughout their body."

_So that is a haste spell_, mused Jeral. _I need to have her teach me that one._

A large plate clad man rounded into view. Jeral sucked in his breath when he took a look at the mountain of a man. He was of a size with Minsc if not larger. He was clad is a suit of well made full plate mail. He wore a closed faced helm atop his head and carried a shield strapped to his right arm. In his left hand he carried a silver war hammer. Unlike a traditional two headed war hammer this man's weapon had a hammer on the front face and a large spike on the back of the hammer. With nary a glance he stepped over the dead sentry and pointed at the party.

_We may be in real trouble here_, Jeral shook the negative voice from his head and started firing arrows at the leather clad bandits.

"There be our guests boys. Tazok said we might have company. Looks like they have some fine looking ladies with them as well. Kill the men. We can have some fun with the ladies when this little scrap is done. All the glory will belong to the Black Talon, those dogs in the Chill clan will just have to miss out on this fun." The plate clad warrior strode confidently forward and was overtaken by a dozen leather clad bandits while four more bandits wielding long bows stood behind him preparing to fire.

Ajantis and Minsc sprinted towards the enemy. With their magically enhanced speed they reached the bandits far faster than they could have normally. Two of the bandits fell to their blades before the enemy could overcome their surprise. The two fighters were quickly encircled but they just stood back to back and fought valiantly against their attackers. The two men were cutting a bloody swath against their lightly armored opposition.

Imoen and Jeral were firing as fast as they could draw, aim, and loose. Dynaheir prepared to cast another spell as Viconia stood in front of her protectively. As she completed the spell a faint mist floated from her hands and settled over the four enemy archers. As one they collapsed to the ground in a deep slumber. With the archers temporarily out of the fight Jeral laid his bow on the ground, drew his short sword and moved forward to assist Minsc and Ajantis. To his surprise Viconia raced ahead of him twirling her war hammer in an intricate pattern as she approached the melee and aimed for the plate clad man. Jeral headed towards the leather clad bandits to assist Minsc in his battle. Viconia nimbly ducked under the swing from one bandit's blade and struck out with a sweeping upward swing. Her hammer connected with the man's chin and he dropped to the ground to the sound of shattering bone.

Grinning evilly Viconia stepped past another of the lightly armed bandits and attacked the plate clad warrior. He was dueling with Ajantis and was slow to notice her approach. Her first blow landed on his side with a resounding clang as the hammer slammed into his plate armor. Grunting in pain the big man punched out with his shield and knocked Viconia back on her heels. He turned to face the dark elf. "I love a woman with fire. Makes it all the more fun when Tenhammer takes you and breaks you."

"You will fall surfacer. And you would not survive our coupling. So be silent dog. There is nothing one like you can say. Be quiet and die you foul blowhard!" Viconia twirled her war hammer and waited for an opening. While he was focused on Viconia Ajantis stood behind the large man. Unwilling to attack a man when his back was turned Ajantis was determined to get him to turn around.

"Prepare to meet thy doom heathen. I am Ajantis, paladin of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and I challenge you to a duel."

With a deep rumbling laugh the plate clad bandit turned and stared at the paladin.

"A duel? What do you think this is boy, a tourney field?"

"One must fight with honor else the victory is meaningless."

"Fool! One must fight to win else they die!"

Tenhammer swung at Ajantis and the paladin blocked the blow with his shield. The force of the blow still staggered him back. Tenhammer quickly struck again and slammed his hammer into the Helmite's shield. A third blow in rapid succession struck Ajantis on his sword arm and his enchanted blade fell to the ground.

"How do you like your duel so far boy? Shall I wait while you recover and reclaim your blade? That would be the honorable thing to do. I think not." He stepped forward and swung out with his hammer, catching Ajantis full in the chest. The paladin was knocked off his feet and lay helpless on the ground as he struggled to breathe and recover from the vicious strike. The large bandit tossed his shield aside and gripped his war hammer in a two handed grip as he raised it overhead in preparation for a killing blow.

"Time to die honorable one."

"Not quite surfacer." Viconia sent a looping underhand swing of her hammer into the big man's right knee. Her hammer slammed into the knee joint and an electric jolt ran through his armor. Howling in pain Tenhammer quickly spun around swinging his hammer in front of him. Quicker than Jeral thought possible Viconia dropped to her knees and the hammer strike swung helplessly over her head. Standing quickly she jabbed her hammer into the bandit's closed faced helm. The face of his helm folded in and blood started pouring out of the breathing slits on his helm.

Shaking his head to clear his vision the bandit struck again at Viconia. She leaned back and the hammer swing missed her by a hair's breath. Leaping in the air she struck against his helm once and then again. The second strike caused an audible crack and his head leaned to the side in an unnatural position. Viconia landed and crouched in a defensive position awaiting the next strike. Instead, she watched as the large man fall face forward onto the ground and lay still.

Viconia stepped forward and pried the spiked war hammer from the dead man's hand. While Viconia claimed her prize Minsc and Jeral, aided by Dynaheir and Imoen, finished off the last of the lightly armored bandits.

Viconia turned the weapon over in her hands and caressed it lovingly. "This is a weapon worthy of a drow. It is enchanted, deadly, and won in battle."

"Archer, thank you for the loan of this weapon but I no longer have need of it." She tossed the enchanted hammer taken from Bassilus back to Jeral and twirled the new weapon to get a feel for the balance. Glancing over at the paladin Viconia walked over to where they four bandit archers lay sleeping. Putting the spiked end of her new weapon to good use she ensured that none of the four would ever wake up.

Jeral walked over to Ajantis and reached out his hand to the downed paladin. Grudgingly he grasped Jeral's arm and laboriously pulled himself up. Once on his feet he uncorked and drank one healing potion and then a second. "Eh, I shall live. I will be hard pressed to fight for some time. My ribs and chest feel like they were crushed by a giant."

"Want Viconia to take a look at your injuries?"

"I would rather die that have that foul creature touch me."

"Trust me male, touching an unwashed surfacer such as you is not high on my list either."

"Ok that is enough out of both of you, we must move forward. Ajantis remain here and guard our escape route. If we get into a larger fight than we can manage we will need to run for it."

The paladin nodded and leaned wearily against a tree. The rest of the group dropped their packs and field gear next to him and moved deeper into the bandit camp. With Ajantis out of action Jeral and Minsc led the way with Dynaheir and Viconia in the second rank and Imoen bringing up the rear. Minsc drank a healing potion as they walked and the minor wounds he had recently received closed up quickly.

The five cautiously walked deeper into the bandit camp. A couple dozen large huts were visible in the clearing. They were poorly constructed and looked like they would topple in a stiff wind. As the party continued forward they stopped in front of the largest structure in the center of the camp. The building stood out from all the others, for it was well constructed and sat on a raised wooden platform. It was clearly the bandit camp headquarters.

Jeral looked at his companions. "I am sure this building is occupied so we should make ready. Any more spells that can help us Dynaheir?"

"Unfortunately not. I only have a few combat spells remaining and one personal defensive spell. Nothing else."

"Oy! Why are you lot not out on patrol? Only Black Talon are left to guard the camp and you lot are not part of Tenhammer's crew."

A thin man wearing worn leathers approached the group trailed by three others in similar attire.

Jeral sneered and tilted his head in the direction of the large building.

"Me gang was told to report for a special mission."

"Special mission hunh? What kind of mission?"

"How should I know? We have yet to report to the boss."

"Well do not let me stop ye." The man stopped to spit at Jeral's feet and scratch himself.

"We will wait here and see how it goes."

Unwilling to leave a threat at their rear before they entered the headquarters Jeral realized that the four had to be eliminated quietly. Jeral quickly drew an arrow and fired at the lead man. At point blank range he could not miss and his arrow buried deep into the man's chest. Looking confused he fell to the ground. The other three quickly drew their swords but they were no match for Minsc and Viconia. By the time Jeral could ready a second arrow all three of the other bandit guards were dead on the ground.

"Ok, we have no chance at surprise now; a deaf man could have heard the sounds of that fight. Make ready as best you can for speed is now our best ally."

Jeral dropped his bow on the ground and drew his sword. Dynaheir chanted a few words of power and 4 witches appeared where only one stood before. Viconia quickly muttered a few words to Shar and then shivered as the favor of her Goddess washed over her.

"Everyone ready? Right. Follow me."

Jeral grasped the door handle and pulled. The door did not move. Jeral sheathed his sword, drasped the door handle with two hands and pulled with all his might. The door did not move at all. Red faced, Jeral just stared dumbly at the door as his face turned beet red with embarrassment.

"Please move Jeral. Opening doors is what Minsc does very well."

Nodding glumly Jeral drew his sword and stood to the side. Minsc took two steps backwards, and then rumbled forward. His armored shoulder struck the door and it gave way immediately with a loud crack as wood splinters flew everywhere. Minsc tore through the shattered door and roared a battle cry as he entered the room beyond.

Jeral heard the sounds of combat as he raced in after the ranger. He entered into a large room with tapestries on the walls, clearly the headquarters of the bandit camp. There were four facing off against Minsc and Jeral. A quick glace at their clothes, equipment and bearing showed that these opponents were no mere bandits. A large gnoll was wielding a halberd and was already dueling with Minsc as the ranger roared and frothed in rage. For an instand Jeral wondered if Minsc was more of a beast than the gnoll he dueled against. Jeral saw a splint clad bandit draw a wicked looking bastard sword and move towards him. Smiling grimly Jeral spied a glint of gold in the man's mouth. Off to his left Jeral saw a mage preparing a spell. The fourth opponent was on the far side of the room bathed in shadows.

"Dynaheir, Imoen, the mage!"

He could not see what happened to the mage as he refocused on his immediate threat. Jeral leaned to his right and the bastard sword sliced through the air mere inches from his head. Jeral jabbed out with his sword and watched in frustration as it was pushed aside as the man quickly snapped his large blade back to parry the thrust.

Jeral was forced back as his gold toothed opponest slashed and hacked at Jeral with his bastard sword. Jeral found himself twisting time and time again to avoid the man's attacks as he waited for an opening.

ZING.

Jeral saw something flying towards his head and flung himself to the ground. An arrow fired from the fourth bandit, a hobgoblin wielding an ornate long bow, sliced Jeral's cheek open down to the bone. Jeral had no time to recover as the bastard sword sliced down again. Jeral crab walked backwards on the floor as the man's attack splintered the floor inches in front of the retreating bard. Jeral struggled to his feet and stood unsteadlily. His vision started to cloud as his body was wracked with pain. His short sword slipped from his rapidly weakening grip as he struggled to remain on his feet.

Jeral dropped to a knee and watched his attacker advance on him. Helpless to defend himself Jeral could only watch as the man swung his blade in a killing stroke.

A spray of blood drenched Jeral's face and he collapsed screaming in fear and pain. His back arched as spasms of pain roared through his body. His opponent forgotten, Jeral realized he was dying, likely poisoned by the arrow that had sliced into his face. Strong hands pinned him down to the floor. He struggled weakly against them as water was poured over his face. He looked up to see Imoen cradling his head. Jeral struggled to speak; "poison" was all he could force out through his chattering teeth.

Imoen looked around wildly. "Does anyone have any poison antidotes? I just purchased healing potions at the temple."

"Well give him that, for it is better than nothing." Imoen nodded at Dynaheir, unstopped a vial, and poured the blue liquid into Jeral's mouth. Coughing he swallowed most of it down and the pain was forced back somewhat but did not disappear. Fumbling at his pouch he found one of his own healing potions and drank that down as well. Jeral could still feel the pain waiting to return and knew he was merely postponing the inevitable.

"Does this male hold some value to you, Imoen?"

"Of course he does Viconia. He is my brother."

Signing heavily, the drow nodded and knealt down next to Jeral. She commanded Minsc to hold him still. She started chanting and placed her hands directly in the wound. She shuddered once and Jeral felt the pain disappear from his body. The poison was no longer there! Viconia grabbed his head and forced it to one side and then the other.

"For a surface you are not unattractive. I should likely mend your face; else you will be too unattractive to bear."

Viconia grabbed both sides of Jeral's torn cheek and forced them painfully together. Chanting a different invocation she quickly fused the torn skin together. Wiping her bloody hands on Jeral's tunic she smoothly got to her feet and reclaimed her war hammer.

Jeral slowly sat up and quickly scanned the room. The enemy mage lay dead on the ground, 3 arrows sticking from his body and scortch marks on his chest indicating his causes of death.

His own opponent lay headless on the ground, clearly decapitated from a blow from Minsc. The gnoll also lay on the ground in a spreading pool of blood. Jeral determined from the position of the bodies that Minsc had left his opponent to save Jeral and then returned to defeat the gnoll. In looking over at Minsc Jeral could see that he had paid for his heroic action. Minsc leaned against the wall bleeding from a number of wounds. Jeral watched as he downed the last of his healing potions. Confident that Minsc would live Jeral smiled and slowly pushed himself back upright.

He watched quietly as the drow walked over to where the hobgoblin archer was standing immobile, clearly held from magic from either the arcane or divine schools. Viconia calmly drew out one of the arrows and sniffed the tip.

"Spider venom, very dangerous and quite deadly. I thought that smelled familiar. Now that reminds me of home."

She slowly traced the arrow across the creature's face leaving a thin line of blood behind.

Speaking to no one in particular Viconia continued.

"The drow are known for their use of poison, and I always considered myself an expert at its use. It offends me when lesser creatures use tools better left to their betters."

She took a second arrow out, sniffed it and drew it across the hobgoblin's exposed throat. This time the cut was deeper and the line of blood it left behind thicker. She stepped back and watched as the poison started to trace blue lines away from the wounds and it entered his blood stream. Held immobile as he was, the only indication of his struggle was the changing color of his skin and the rapid dilation of his pupils. After less than a minute the creature was dead and only the enchantments around him kept him on his feet. Viconia snapped her fingers, the spell was broken, and the creature collapsed to the floor.

"Remind me to never anger a drow, even one as fetching as you my dear."

Though she would deny it to her dying day Viconia actually jumped in surprise and looked startled as a voice carried from a darkened corner of the tent. Scowling Viconia hefted her war hammer and advanced towards the sound.

"Please, stay thy hand. I am no threat. I am a prisoner here. I believe that I can be of use to you for I know much of my captors and would be pleased to relate all I need in exchange for my freedom."

Jeral pulled a torch off the wall and walked towards the sound of the man's voice. He found a thin man clad only in tattered rags chained to the wall. Shackles encircled his ankles, wrist, throat and waist, pinning him upright on the wall. Throwing knives were embedded in the wall around his body. His lithe body showed signs of beatings and abuse. His face was covered in a scraggly beard and his hair was long and unkempt. Clearly he was not newly imprisoned.

"Target practice, how delightful" Viconia pulled one of the blades from the wall and tossed it to get a feel for its balance. Jeral stepped in front of Viconia and addressed the prisoner directly.

"Who are you and why are you here?"

"Well that is a bit of a story. Please free me and provide me a bit of water and I will share all I know."

"Very well. Imoen, would you mind?" Imoen trotted over and rummaged around in her small belt pouch. She located her tools and unrolled them on the ground as she started working on the locks.

"My dear, I suggest you use the number five with the chisel tip. Depress the spring inside the lock and then twist to the right and it should unlock, simple as can be."

Imoen frowned and started working on the first lock.

"Uh, if I may make a suggestion my dear, please free my hands first and then I may assist on the other locks."

Jeral chuckled to himself as he watched Imoen's ears redden. She hated it when someone talked down to her. The prisoner clearly sensed something was amiss for he sat still and silent until she had freed him from his chains.

"Ahhhhh, that is so much better. I am in your debt milady." He took a step away from the wall and squatted down and then jumped up and down, working the kinks out of his body. Jeral handed him a water skin and he took a long pull. He drank heavily and sighed contentedly.

"Right then, a bit of explanation is in order. First allow me to introduce myself. I am Endar Sai, a member in good standing of the theives guild in Baldur's Gate. You must be Jeral of Candlekeep."

"How do you know my name? And how does a thief in Baldur's Gate end up trapped by bandits in the Larswood well to the south of the city."

"Ahhhhh yes, well that does beg the question does it not. Larswood, I never would have guessed, very interesting. Well suffice it to say that I was tasked with some shall we say misdeeds involving the Iron Throne merchant consortium."

"You mean you were stealing from them." Dynaheir spoke scornfully.

"My dear lady, I prefer to think of it as merely a redistribution of wealth but that is not central to my tale. I was successful in my endeavors; however there was apparently a witness."

"Apparently?"

"Well I was taken unawares on the street the very next day. I was captured, drugged and brought here. I have not angered any others of note in some time. Therefore, one with the skill to capture me and the resources to spirit me to Larwwood must have significant resources. It has to be the Iron Throne. At some point during my transport I learned that they decided to send me to Tazok so he could make use of me. Killing me was apparently too easy."

"Why would a bandit leader have need of you?"

"Well modesty permits me from saying more, but suffice it to say that I am a rogue of more than some small skill. They have encouraged me to join in their cause here."

"Well judging from the knives in the wall you have refused."

"Yes and they were getting bored with me."

"So they were planning to kill you."

"Worse. They planned to send me to the mines to live out my days as a slave mining for ore."

"There were no slaves in the Nashkel mines."

"No you misunderstand me. There is a secret mine hidden deep in the Cloakwood Forest."

"You know this how male? It seems very convenient that your captors kept you here where you could learn so much."

Chuckling Endar eyed the drow warily. "It was not convenience my dear, it was arrogance. They believed that no one could stop them. The only concern they have surrounds your friend here."

He nodded at Jeral. "The bounty on Gorion's ward continues to rise and Tazok promised 700 gold to the man who brought him Jeral's head."

"Why are they concerned with me and how do you know of Gorion?"

"I do not know, the most recent scroll to Tazok indicated that he and Daevorn should be on the alert for you and your friends. The scroll referred to you as the ward of Gorion of Candlekeep and nothing else."

"And Tazon and Daevorn are?"

"Tazok is a massive half ogre, and the bandit leader. You just killed his lieutenants. Daevorn is master of the Cloakwood mines and a peer of Tazok. I am unclear if one works for the other for the two clearly share no affection for one another. Tazok left a few days ago but I do not know where he went."

"Master thief, do you have any evidence of any of this? Not that I doubt your word my good man."

Endar chuckled and wiggled his fingers. He picked up one of Imoen's lock picks and turned on his heel. He leaned over a heavy iron bound chest and started working on the lock.

This is my present to you. Tazok holds the only key and the chest is heavily trapped.

He continued to fiddle with the lock for another minute.

"There we go. And now it is free of traps, unlocked, and open." With a florish he tossed the chest open and bowed deeply. Imoen and Dynaheir searched through the chest while Jeral and Viconia searched the rest of the room.

Endar contented himself to stroll about the chamber and eat hungrily from the plates laid out on a side board and dress himself in some of the clothes stored in the wardrobes along the wall. Once his appetite was sated he strapped a short sword to his belt and collected a dozen of the throwing knives.

"The man speaks true Jeral; the documents here mirror what he said. There are also spell scrolls, a wand and potions here as well. Also a bag heavy with many thousands of gold."

"Great Imoen, take it all. We need to move quickly. I am surprised no one has come to investigate the sounds of combat from this tent."

"Fear not Jeral. This tent is warded to prevent sounds from going in or out. My captors encouraged me to scream and told me it would not be heard by others."

Jeral nodded and continued to search the room. The drow handed Jeral the longbow and quiver from the downed hobgoblin archer.

"This is a bow of some power archer. Also there are enchanted arrows here. Some of fire and some of ice. I will not permit you to use the poisoned ones for you are not drow and unworthy of spider venom."

"Fair enough, I have no taste for poisons." Jeral grabbed the long bow and tested the pull of the string. The power of the bow made his fingers tingle. Smiling he strapped the second quiver on his back and took the newly proffered bow.

"Ok everyone ready to move? Endar, you are welcome to join us for we head to the Friendly Arm Inn and then Beregost before we will enter the Cloakwood."

"You are too trusting to share your plans with a stranger. But I thank you and will gladly accompany you as far as the inn. Once there I will make my way back to Baldur's Gate" Endar made a final quick circuit of the room grabbing up a few items of clothing, food, a water skin and bandoleir for his knives before throwing it all into a pack to go over his shoulders.

The six warily exited the tent and saw that the camp was still. With not a living bandit in sight the group quickly retraced their steps and hurried to the woods on the eastern edge of the camp. There they saw Ajantis standing upright.

"Who is your new companion Jeral?"

"Don't worry about him right now; we need to get out of here. We have what we came to get."

"Are all the bandits dead?"

"No. We made it to the center of the camp, killed the leader's lieutenants and found the information we needed. We are leaving."

"We cannot leave. There is still evil here. We must end the threat to the countryside."

Dynaheir stepped forward and placed a hand on the paladin's armored forearm.

"Good squire. Your words ring true but consider this. With their leaders dead, their wealth taken, and the location of their camp known they are no longer a significant threat. We can inform the Flaming Fist of this location and they can come back in forces to ensure no one remains."

"Your words ring true my lady; I just do not like walking away from evil."

"You have little choice. You are injured and we are still few in numbers, even with our new companion." Turning she pointed at her companion. "Minsc, that man Tenhammer had excellent mail that can be made to fit you. Please take that as well as his shield for we can sell that for some coin."

Minsc nodded and started to strip the mail from the corpse and place it in a large burlap sack.

"Speaking of flaming, let's liven this place up a bit."

Jeral pulled out an enchanted fire arrow and drew back the newly acquired long bow. He aimed carefully and loosed a fire arrow. The red streak trailed across the sky and landed on the roof of the bandit headquarters. Smiling Jeral loosed another half dozen arrows at other huts across the tent. The dry buildings burst into flame and the flames soon spread to the remainder of the buildings. Dense black smoke billowed into the sky.

"That should keep everyone busy and discourage any pursuit."

"Very subtle archer. This secret base is secret no longer with that smoke cloud marking this location for all who would care to visit."

Viconia smirked and trudged off into the woods back towards the Friendly Arm Inn.

The group fell in behind her and slowly made their way South.


	19. Chapter 19: Preparation and Departures

Chapter 19 – Preparation and Departures - Day 33

_Happy 2015! Now that the holidays are finished I will try and get back on track. Plan is a chapter a week. We shall see._

_This is primarily a transition chapter and time to say farewell to a certain drow cleric. She is a great character but I always found her too weak to keep her around in BG1. But have no fear; she will definitely reappear down the road. I always thought she was integral in BG2. _

Jeral's lungs were on fire as he struggled to keep from taking a breath. Grimly he held on and held on until he could not take it anymore. He started seeing stars and knew he had mere seconds until he blacked out. He sat up quickly and surfaced taking a deep lungful of air as he did so.

"Seventy one seconds that time. Boo says that is more than even Minsc can do." Jeral smiled as he looked at the ranger and his furry companion. Minsc was sitting on one of the benches in the bath house located in the basement of the Friendly Arm Inn. The inn was built over a natural hot spring so hot water was readily available in deep stone soaking tubs. He had just finished bathing when Jeral came down for his soak. Minsc sat with a towel wrapped around his waist and a second draped over his shoulders. Jeral eyed the large man and shook his head as he eyed the massive barrel chest and broad shoulders of the ranger. The man was covered with thin hair across his chest and shoulders. The fur made him look like a bear as much as a man. Minsc was drying off his hamster with a third towel while Jeral continued enjoying his soak.

"Minsc, may I ask you a personal question."

"Of course Jeral, we are comrades in arms. You may ask anything."

"Were your parents warriors? They must have been quite strong to give birth to one such as you."

Minsc hung his head and took a deep breath as Boo squeaked in his ear.

"My parents were not warriors. My father was a wood worker and my mother was the local healer for my village. They both died when Minsc was very little."

"I am sorry for your loss. If I may ask, were they as large as you are?"

"Oh no, my father was little like you and my mother was no larger than Dynaheir." Jeral could only shake his head and smile to himself. Minsc was one of the very few who could call Jeral little given his size and Jeral could only feel sorry for the poor mother who gave birth to Minsc for he assuredly was a large baby.

"Minsc must get dressed. We are all still meeting for a mid day meal are we not?"

"That is right Minsc. See you there." Jeral laid back and luxuriated in the warm water. After his first week away from Candlekeep Jeral had a greater appreciation for regular bathing and made sure to avail himself of every opportunity. After a few more minutes he toweled off and returned to his room. Once there he dressed in his finest clothes, which really meant his only remaining set of clothes without blood stains. The dark blue tunic draped over black pants and black boots. Feeling strangely secure Jeral left his armor, long bow and short sword in the room. Tucking one dagger into his right boot and wearing a second tucked into his belt under his shirt Jeral made his way downstairs. Secure or not, it was foolish to go anywhere without a weapon of some sort.

Jeral joined the others at the table. Dynaheir and Imoen had ordered a large lunch for the six of them and Jeral arrived just after the food did. Endar Sai had quickly recovered from his captivity and had departed early in the morning. He joined a caravan of merchants headed to Baldur's Gate and pledged that he would be a useful ally should they ever make it that far north. Minsc dug into his food with gusto as the others started to speak of their plans.

"A good day to you Jeral. We were just speaking of our plans."

"Well nice to see you waited for me," Jeral quipped. Dynaheir had the good grace to blush and look somewhat ashamed before she continued.

"Uh yes, well time is a wasting. As I said, before we continue to pursue to the bandits we have need of a return trip to Beregost. We must take a step back to prepare ourselves to move forward."

"I could not agree more. Ajantis needs his armor repaired; Minsc can have that full plate adjusted to fit him, Officer Vai of the Fist needs our report and you can shop for more magic spells from the wizard who resides to the west of town. In fact, I suspect the Fist will likely reward us for our success against the bandits. So why don't all of you go and do not forget to sell that enchanted shield we picked up. Viconia and I can remain here and will await your return. I want to try out my new longbow and I can spend some time sparring with the guards here to pass my time before you return."

Dynaheir was clearly shocked that Jeral wanted the group to separate. Jeral continued the conversation as if there was no tension amongst the members of the group over the presence of the drow.

"Before you depart I have a few things to hand out. I spent some time trying to determine the value of some of the treasures we found. I sorted out most of them on my own and the good innkeeper helped on the rest. Minsc, these gauntlets make one an even more effective fighter by making each and every attack more precise. I can think of no one more worthy." Minsc nodded his thanks and returned to eating, the carcass of an entire roast chicken on the plate in front of him.

"This wand can induce extreme terror in anyone targeted. Dynaheir, I think you can best use this." The wand slid across the table to her and she smiled contentedly as she rolled the wand around in her hands examining the fine detail etched into the wand.

"Ok, there is also quite a bit of coin for each one of us as well. Each one of us gets 800 gold. I sold the jewels this morning and got a more than fair price." Viconia's eyes widened as she looked at the six heavy sacks on the table.

"Am I to understand archer that I am to share in the spoils equitably?"

"Of course Viconia. You fought with us, bled with us, and saved the lives of a few of us. You earned this as much as any."

The snort of disgust forced Jeral to make eye contact with Ajantis. The man's handsome face was twisted in anger as he spoke, "Jeral, we will likely be a tenday to Beregost and back. If the drow is here when I return, I will kill her. Her and any who foolishly attempt to stop me. To the rest of you, I leave at first light on the morrow. I will meet you at the gate at that time."

"You may try Helmite." Viconia replied in a sweet mocking tone of voice.

Ajantis ignored her mocking reply and pushed back from the table, his chair scraping on the floor of the inn, and stalked off. The rest of the party ate in a tension filled silence. After wolfing down his lunch Jeral departed and returned to his room to study the mage scrolls they discovered in the bandit camp. A gentle knock on the door broke his concentration. Sighing heavily Jeral called for the person to come in. Imoen shyly walked into the room and sat down on Jeral's bed.

"So what cha doin?"

"Trying to make sense of these scrolls. I can use these since I can cast spells from scrolls while wearing armor. You see, enchanted scrolls pull their energy from the magic imbued in the scroll vice my own energies."

Imoen rolled her eyes and made a face.

"Well no kidding O mighty bardling. I sat through Gorion's classes too, remember?" Seeing the pall fall over Jeral's features, Imoen's heart fell. "Jeral, I am so sorry to bring that up, you know I did not mean to remind you."

"It's ok. What happened, happened. I no longer dream of it every night. In fact as crazy as it sounds I wish I did."

"How can you mean that?"

"Well I am having these really weird dreams. Last night I was in a dream where I strode through the bandit camp slaying every last bandit single handed. There was blood and death everywhere and I loved it. The blood and destruction called to me. In the dream I was called a conqueror. It made little sense, but it felt so real."

Imoen shuddered and walked over to giver Jeral a hug. Looking to lighten the mood she looked at the scrolls on the table.

"Ohhhh, that one is blindness. Ummmm, that one is called prismatic spray. How bout that one?"

"That one is called Agannazar's Scorcher, it fires out a jet of flame at a point target. Imoen, I am impressed. When did you learn to read magic?"

"Well Dynaheir is teaching me a bit, but I have to tell you. It just comes easy. Before in Candlekeep I would study and study and nothing happened, I just could not fgure it out. Now I can sometimes look at a scroll and suddenly I just understand it. Somehow the runes just speak to me and make sense."

"I am impressed."

"Well sure it is impressive, I am impressive." Imown twirled in a circle and took a mock bow.

"But to be honest, I am stunned. I have no idea how is comes so easy. Magic is supposed to take years and years of study and practice and I feel I am learning it way too fast."

Shrugging her shoulders she stood up and patted Jeral on the top of his head.

"OK enough introspection. I am gonna get ready for my trip tomorrow. Dynaheir is going to make me her apprentice so I can really start learning some of this stuff. See you in a ten day. I will tell Garrick you say hi."

Imoen kissed his forhead and skipped out of the room. Jeral chuckled silently and returned to his scrolls. He called for dinner delivered to his room and spent the rest of the evening immersed in magical study. Unlike Imoen Jeral had to learn magic through rigorous study and sheer persistence.

Day 34

"Good morning Viconia."

"Good morning male."

"Uh, the name is Jeral. We do not have an audience. No need to be so snippy."

The drow sighed heavily.

"Very well. Good morning Jeral. Did you sleep well. Was your visit to the privy this morning satisfactory?"

"Um, ok maybe forget about being nice. Apparently it does not suit you."

"Your surface ways and social conventions are beyond tiresome. For the drow nothing matters but status and power. We command the lesser and grovel before our betters until we can steal advantage. Why waste time with unnecessary pleasantries?"

"Now that sounds tiresome." Looking to change the subject Jeral continued, "I plan to test out this bow today and do some shopping, what are your plans?"

"I plan to leave on the morrow."

Jeral could only stammer out a response. "Wait, What? You, you are leaving? Why?"

"Jeral you know as well as I do that two of your companions will not accept me. The Helmite and that harridan of a mage both eye me like I am a threat. If I remain with this group there will be violence. And while I could assuredly kill one of them killing both at once is likely beyond my means at this time. The mountain of the man with the rodent follows the mage so that makes three opposed to my presence if it comes to violence."

"Well I am on your side. You saved my life." Viconia snorted at Jeral's comment.

"Yes I did save your life, but that was repaying a debt. By taking me into your group you saved my life and you and Minsc saved me from the mercenary when I was at my weakest. For that you will always have an ally in me when you call. You are only the second person to ever save my life or show me real kindness."

The pain that washed over the drow's face told Jeral to not ask who the other person was.

"Well there you have it you can't leave. I am the leader of this group and we have need of a healer. Besides Imoen likes you as well." Viconia's snort gave lie to his words.

"Jeral, you are a foolish male. Your hold on leadership is tenuous at best. Look at yourself and then look at your companions. Ajantis and Minsc are able heavily armed and armored warriors who handle the bulk of the close combat. Dynaheir, despite her dour personality, is an excellent mage. Your dear sister Imoen admittedly grows on me and she is an adequate archer as well as a solid rogue, at least where locks and traps are concerned. It is clear that her love of color and youthful impateience make her ill suited to stealth. So that brings us to you. You are the third best fighter here and the second best mage. Your command of tactics is commendable and your archery skills are without equal but I am not sure that is enough."

Viconia paused for a moment before continuing. "You are handsome for a surfacer and many seem willing to follow you, but only to a point. If you take a stand over me you will lose and I will die. So I must leave. Perhaps someday you will be powerful enough to impose your will on others. The gnome innkeeper has aided me with my travel plans, I leave early on the morrow." Viconia pushed back from the table gracefully and strode for the stairs. Jeral watched her go and realized that he was going to miss her.

After a pleasing afternoon of archery practice Jeral entered the common room of the inn ready for dinner alone. To his pleasant surprise he saw Viconia sitting with the proprietor of the inn at a table by the hearth. Striding over Jeral sat down with a smile. "Good evening you two." Bentley returned the smile while Viconia did not.

"Ahhhhh Master Jeral, good eve to you as well you sir. I saw you out in the courtyard with that bow of yours. That was very impressive shooting. You took quite a few coppers from the guards." Jeral blushed and hung his head.

"Yes well I hope you also noticed that I gave the money back. I could not keep it in good conscience. I was shooting with an enchanted bow and enchanted bracers. There was no way I could lose. The bow is newly won so I wanted to see how my aim had improved."

"Well I have rarely seen better, except amongst the most able of the elven races, you are more than proficient. Your lovely companion and I were just educating one another."

"Really, how so? What do a gnome and a dark elf have in common?"

"We have little in common other than the desire for knowledge. She is educating me about the deep gnomes, my distant kinsmen of the underdark, while I am educating her on the ways of the surface, and of my people."

"And I must say you have been quite generous with your time. I may honestly say I have never had a real conversation with one of your kind. The gnomes of my home would never dare to speak with me in this manner."

Bentley chuckled and pushed himself to his feet. I will get the two of you some dinner. With a bow he excused himself and strode towards the kitchens.

"So archer, this enchanted long bow of yours, is it of elven make?" 

"Surprisingly no. From reading the runes on the bow it is of human make, and it is called the Dead Shot. It is a few centuries old based on the ancient varients of languages inscribed in the runes."

"How appropriate that an ancient human enchanted bow comes to one who has studied history his entire life. Well use it well; I suspect your road will get more dangerous as you and Imoen continue." Their dinner arrived and the two tucked into roasted quail stuffed with cheese and dates. Bentley dropped off a bottle of red wine with two silver inlaid glasses.

Winking at Viconia he walked off.

"Well you seem to have a new friend."

Viconia just shrugged and poured herself a glass of wine.

"He is a learned man starved for intelligent conversation. Few surfacers know anything of the Underdark so he was appreciative of our conversation. This is how an innkeeper expresses his thanks."

Jeral poured himself a glass of wine. It was sweet and had an excellent nose. Jeral took a sip and savored it. "This is a very nice bottle of wine."

"As I said, he was appreciative and he has amassed a very nice wine cellar over the years. So tell me how you came to be on the road. Imoen mentioned this life was thrust upon you recently."

"A little over a month ago I had never walked the groud outside of Candlekeep. I lived a sheltered life."

"What changed for you surfacer? Why would you and Imoen leave a quiet sheltered existence? Youthful desire for adventure does not seem appropriate in this case." Jeral drained his glass and poured himself another before he continued. Twirling the wine around in the glass he marveled at the rich red liquid. The color of so many things. Shaking out of his reverie he responded with only one word.

"Everything."

Day 35

Jeral groaned as he rolled over in bed. The sun streamed in through the cracks in the shutters causing Jeral's head to scream in pain. As he rolled over in bed his right hand brushed against the blankets and a jolt of pain wracked his body. Looking down he saw that three of his fingers were horribly broken and pointing in wholly unnatural directions.

_Well that was a hell of a last night with Viconia._

Gritting his teeth Jeral forced one finger, then a second back into their correct position. Sweating from the exertion, and his hangover, Jeral forced the third back into place. He then cleared his mind and focused on his hand. A cool wave of energy washed over his hand and the swollen, battered joints, quickly looked good as new. He also smiled as his hangover had pushed back into a dull ache. Sitting up in bed Jeral tossed aside the rumpled covers and sat up. As Jeral stretched he noticed a folded piece of parchment sitting on the floor, clearly slid under the door by someone out in the hallway. Jeral walked over and picked up the note. Written neatly in a tight compact hand the note was signed by Viconia. After taking a deep breath to compose himself Jeral started to read.

_Archer, _

_I wanted to again thank you for saving my life. Not too many on the _

_surface would go out of their way to aid one such as me. With the funds_

_you provided me I plan to settle down somewhere to the South of here. _

_Bentley recommended some contacts in the City of Coin. Once I reach the city I _

_may purchase a small homestead and try to get comfortable with life on the surface. _

_I owe you one last gift. There is something quite unusual about you. I_

_normally find surface males to be quite boring and lacking in any form _

_of charisma. You, at least in my limited experience with surface males, _

_are unique. There is an aura about you, I cannot explain it but it is there. _

_I find myself drawn to you for reasons I cannot explain. You are no ordinary _

_male and I suspect your life will not be a quiet one. It is likely the ones _

_menacing you also see something in you that causes them concern. _

_For that reason, that attraction I have towards you, I spared your _

_life last night after your drunken groping. Your roaming hand was _

_dealt with far more gently than I would have done normally. I granted you the_

_pleasure of a single kiss as a farewell guesture. You incorrectly took a liberty _

_to go beyond that where none was granted. Do not make that mistake again. _

_You may someday experience all of the pleasures I have to offer, but that is _

_for the future. _

_Despite it all I do hope we meet again Jeral. _

V

Jeral read through the letter once and then again savoring every word. Smiling he enchanted the paper to repel water and resist tearing before he folded it up and tucked in his coin purse. He was going to miss the drow and felt affection for her stronger than any he had experienced previously. Perhaps not love but definitely closer than anything previously.

Day 42

"Good morning to you Jeral. So is today much like every day for your past week?"

"Smiling Jeral looked up from his breakfast and nodded at the innkeeper. "Absolutely my good man. Sparring with your guards in the morning, then some archery practice, then back to my scrolls and spell books. Then a nice bath and one of your excellent feats for dinner. My friends should return in the next day or two so I must make the most of the time I have to improve my skills. I have also visited yout lovely wife in the temple and purchased a good number of healing potions and potions to counteract poison as well."

"Well you fight well from what I hear. You can best any save the captain of the guards. So you are clearly a swordsman of some skill."

"Well Bredak beat me pretty easily so I have a lot to lear.n but I am appreciative that he and the rest of the guards let me train with them."

"Ah, think nothing of it, they always love facing a new challenge in training. In addition to sword play and archery you are also a man with other talents. Let us not forget your musical skills. You are playing music on the roof late into the night. You play well, why don't you play for the guests one evening?"

"Thank you for the complement Bentley but it's private, I play for me."

"Well I will not press the matter but I will say the guests on the upper floors all love the music. They think I have provided it specificially for them."

"Well I see no reason to correct them of that notion. I find the music relaxes me, when I take the time to play I manage to sleep better. Nothing troubles my dreams when I spend some time playing music

"So, if you do not mind me asking, where are you headed next? When your friends return I mean."

"We are headed into the Cloakwood Forest in search of a secret iron mine run by the people trying to kill me."

"That forest is huge, you could wander in there for months and never find anything."

"We will be fine, we found a rough map in the bandit camp so that should aid us in our navigation."

"Well good luck to you my boy, for many venture into the Cloakwood, but few come out. Rumors persist of giant spiders and other foul creaturs ready to feed on those who cross their path."


	20. Chapter 20: Spiders

_I apologize for the gap, holidays got away from me so I am finally getting back into the routine. JCL_

Chapter 20 – Spiders - Day 49

"Ewwwwwww. I hate spiders. I really do."

Imoen eyed the carcass of the giant spider at her feet and kicked the carcass with a purple leather boot. Blood and ichor oozed out of a half dozen wounds as the creature bled out into the grass. The arrows sticking out of the corpse made it look like a many legged pin cushion. The body of the spider was the size of a large dog, with legs that were each as tall as a halfling. The eight legged beast was fearsome to view, even in death.

"Well Tiber said he and his brother were overwhelmed by a hoard of them right around here so I suspect this is the first of many. The webbing in the trees gets thicker the deeper we go. Guess their plan to leave the farm and be adventurers went bad pretty quickly."

Jeral felt bad for the brothers and their situation but he quickly focused on watching the surrounding woods for threats. He rolled his shoulders and again marveled at the light weight of his new armor. Imoen had returned from Beregost bearing a suit of lightly enchanted chain mail for him. At half the weight of his previous forty plus pound mail Jeral felt energized for no longer was he worn down at the end of a day's long march. Wearing enchanted armor, wielding an enchanted short sword and an enchanted long bow, Jeral felt ready to take on anything they would find in the woods. He had no idea how Imoen could possibly afford the armor but also knew better than to explicitly ask. Imoen would never lie to him but he also knew not to ask a question when he would probably not enjoy the answer. And if Ajantis heard that Imoen stole it then there would definitely be a problem.

Ajantis, as was his preference, led the way through the forest. Jeral and Imoen were close behind him ready to aid him with their bows. Minsc and Dynaheir brought up the rear of the group and the large man hovered protectively near the mage. Their reduced numbers, and the ever present threat of venomous spiders, forced them to travel tightly packed without someone roaming their flanks. Jeral wished they had someone who was more suitable to serve as a scout than Ajantis but he was the best option available.

The tension was still there between Jeral and the paladin. Ajantis was still angry about Viconia's temporary association with the group and he blamed Jeral for her presence. However, the Helmite did have the good grace to not speak about it. When he returned to the Friendly Arm Inn and learned that she was gone the overt hostility was gone, but the after affects still lingered. The party was four days into the Cloakwood and they had encountered very little save a few small packs of gibberlings and hobgoblins. Each was quickly dispatched with a minimum of excitement. Jeral smiled grimly at the memory of how a sole gibberling almost killed him less than two short months ago. _How fast things can change when you are on the run from assassins and fighting for your life, _he mused.

"Ajantis, stop!" Imoen's cried out. Her sharp eyes had spied a potential pressure trigger for a web trap and the paladin's foot had just landed on it. Ajantis turned to look back and lifted his armored foot from the ground as he did so. "What is it my lady?" As the paladin turned, a spray of spider webs shot out of the surrounding trees and enveloped the immediate area around him.

"BACK! Fall Back!" Jeral screamed, grabbed Imoen, and hastily backed away from the spreading mass of webs. Minsc and Dynaheir also quickly pulled back from the web trap. Ajantis started to run backwards but more and more of the webbing was coating his armor and slowing his movement. After a hasty retreat the group noticed a ten yard wide mass of webbing with the paladin securely trapped inside of it. Drawn by the noise, and the paladin's struggles to free himself, a half dozen giant spiders descended from trees and started to approach the trapped Paladin.

Jeral knocked an arrow and started barking orders.

"Minsc, cut him free! Imoen, we have to keep the spiders off of him, he cannot defend himself immobilized like that." Minsc started hacking at the webbing with his massive great sword. The large blade was not terribly sharp after ages of heavy use so he tore roughly through the webs instead of slicing smoothly through them. Jeral walked forward to the edge of the webs and started firing arrows as fast as he could loose, draw, and aim. Imoen quickly stood at his side and started shooting as fast as she could. She was a blur of purple as her arms moved her bow from target to target.

Three spiders quickly fell to the pair of archers. Another two fell to a pair of magic missile spells from Dynaheir. The sixth continued to close on Ajantis. The paladin struggled against the webbing until Minsc bulled through and grabbed him in a bear hug. He then walked backwards dragging Ajantis out of the webbing. Jeral and Imoen managed to dispatch the final spider with a few well placed arrows and it died with a final shudder mere inches from the still helpless paladin.

Imoen and Dynaheir started pulling webbing and twigs off of the paladin's armor. Once Ajantis could finally move his arms he pulled his helmet off and ran his hands through his greasy sweaty hair. Imoen and Dynaheir both paused to stare at the handsome man as he ran his hands through his sweaty light brown hair and continued to pick twigs and webbing off his ankheg armor.

"I thank all of you for the assistance. My lady, how did you know the webbing was there?"

Imoen tore her gaze from the Paladin and had to take a deep breath before she could frame a reply. "Well there was a small white mass of webbing on the ground with a handful of very fine web strands leading to a bunch of trees. I am sorry I did not see it sooner but I saw it at the very last minute when you stepped on it."

"Well I will be more careful and look out for any more such traps moving forward." Imoen and Jeral walked amongst the spider corpses reclaiming as many of their undamaged arrows as they could recover. Both archers were starting to run short on arrows the deeper they went into the woods. With an extended stay away from civilization likely they had to make the most of every arrow in their quivers.

Ajantis adjusted the grip on his shield, drew his sword and resumed the march. Picking his way carefully forward, weaving through the woods, Ajantis steadily moved ahead with the other four following closely behind. He stopped at the edge of a clearing and stared upwards silently. The other four quickly flanked Ajantis and they all stopped and wordlessly stared upwards. In the center of the clearing a large brown hive like structure loomed over forty feet high. Comprised of mud, sticks and masses of webbing it clearly was a nest for a large number of spiders. Weapons at the ready the group circled the structure looking for an entrance. Boo squeaked twice and Minsc raised a large plate clad arm towards the sky.

"Boo says the opening is at near the top of the nest."

Jeral squinted and saw a small well concealed opening in the side of the nest about thirty feet off the ground.

"Well that will not work. Even if I can reach the opening with a grappling hook and the walls could hold the weight there is no way we can get Minsc and Ajantis up there. Plate clad fighting men make lousy climbers and there is no way we can go in there without them."

"Not all of us can hang back and shoot arrows, some of us must get close to our enemies and fight with honor." Ajantis turned and glared at Jeral. Jeral bit back the apology that was on his lips and felt an angry heat rise up his neck. He flushed and slid a hand to the hilt of his sword. Before things could progress any further between the two men the ranger took the initiative and moved between them and walked confidently to the side of the hive.

"Well if Minsc cannot go to the door the door must come to Minsc." Minsc grasped his great sword with both hands and took a massive horizontal swing into the side of the hive. His sword smashed through the wall of the hive like it was made of paper. Taking a lead from the large ranger Ajantis also started hacking at the side of the hive. Working together the two men quickly cut a rough opening into the hive and entered. Jeral, Imoen and Dynaheir quickly followed.

Ajantis cried to for protection from Helm when his eyes took in his surroundings.

The ground was littered with bones and corpses of dozens of animals and a webbed bundles that looked like people. Sitting in the middle of it all on a crude throne was a grotesquely fat, naked woman who stared at them with a look of amused disdain on her face. Hundreds of tiny spiders crawled all over her body, their web filled nests perched in her hair and in any crevice that could hold them. Even more disturbing were the thousands of spider eggs clearly visible in large oozing sores that dotted her massive legs. The infant spiders apparently depended on their host's body for both food and shelter. The woman raised a meaty arm and pointed at the party. Jeral was momentarily mesmerized from the fat jiggling down from her arm as it swayed back and forth like a flesh colored pendulum. Fighting down a wave of nausea Jeral dropped his bow and started scrabbling for a pouch at his side.

"While your entrance was both rude and unwelcome it is very convenient when the fresh meat comes directly to us. This makes feeding so much easier without any of the trouble of the hunt. My children can just go right to the kill."

Looking upwards, the woman screamed, "TIME TO FEED MY LOVELIES! OBEY YOUR QUEEN!"

Looking upwards into a solid mass of webs the group could see dozens of large spiders working their way down through the webbing.

"Ajantis, Minsc, stay close and kill anything that gets near. Keep the spiders away from us and buy us time. Dynaheir, we need fire now and lots of it!"

Imoen was firing arrows into the spider queen. At close range she could hardly miss the gelatinous mass. Arrow after arrow tore into the queen as she screamed in rage. Her tremendous bulk prevented her from moving at all, yet that same bulk seemed to protect her from suffering any real damage from all the arrow strikes.

Jeral unrolled a scroll, stretched out a hand towards the spider queen and quickly chanted the incantation, "inferiem actacio!" A solid jet of fire poured out from Jeral's extended hand. The spider queen and all of the spiders roaming her body were quickly burned to a crisp, The cries of the woman were terrible to hear as she burned to death. Strangely, Jeral could swear that the woman was pleased to die, and that a look of contentment had crossed her face right before it melted off her skull. Fire slowly started to travel up the webs nearest the throne. The inferno also caused the spiders descending the webs to pause and wait for the flames to die down before continuing their attack.

Minsc, reacting to some unseen threat, raced forward into the inferno and was lost from view.

"What is he doing?" Imoen screamed.

"I know not what he does, but I have faith that my protector will return. Now be quiet and let me concentrate."

"We need to leave this place for we will soon be overwhelmed for many spiders are looming close overhead!" The paladin held his shield out over Imoen's head and looked upwards with increasing concern.

Dynaheir raised her hands and started rubbing one hand over the other as if she was cold. Mumbling under her breath a small ball of flame soon appeared in her hands. No larger than an apple it seemed to grow hotter and hotter as she caressed it lovingly. The flame changed from red to orange and then to almost white. Jeral was forced to place a hand up to shield himself from the intense heat as she watched the mage conjure her spell.

Dynaheir was clearly unaffected by the inferno she created and with a final thrust of her hands the ball of fire left her hands and quickly rose upwards. As it moved upwards it steadily grew in size and intensity and turned everything it touched to ash. Spiders chittered in agony as they were roasted alive in seconds. Jeral watched awestruck as the globe continued to grow and rise until it reached the top of the hive. Once it touched the roof of the hive it exploded and a wall of flame roared out in every direction. The hive was blown apart and the five party members flung themselves to the floor as a wave of heat washed over them; followed by bits of hive and charred spiders that rained down on top of them.

Jeral picked himself off the floor and brushed off chunks of spider, webbing and hive. Looking around he spotted Ajantis helping Dynaheir get unsteadily to her feet. "That was rather impressive Dynaheir. I have never heard of any mage working with a fireball spell like you just did. Even Gorion would have been impressed by that sight. I think we would have been finished without that spell. "

She wearily nodded her thanks. "I have always had a bit of a gift with fire, and added my own special twists to the spell to make it my own. However, as you can see it does take a bit out of me. Ajantis led her out of the ruins of the spider hive while Jeral started searching for Imoen and Minsc. Jeral found Imoen and Minsc kneeling over a web wrapped corpse. Imoen looked over at Jeral and nodded sadly at the corpse at her feet.

"This is probably Tiber's brother. It looks like they were saving him for their next meal, poor kid. At least we can return him to his brother and their parents." Minsc hefted the corpse to his shoulder and started to head outside the hive. Imoen wordlessly turned to follow him. Jeral took one last look around the mass of bones and spider corpses and was turning to leave when a glint of medal caught his eye. Jeral walked over to the spot he noted and kicked some wreckage out of the way with his boot. A large sword pommel stuck out from the wreckage.

Jeral knealt down and grasped the pommel. Coming to his feet he shook the weapon free from the mess and raised it up to examine it. Rolling the blade from one side to the other he examined the runes while walking out into the daylight. The handle and pommel were decorated with runes and gilt work of platinum while a large green emerald was seated at the base of the pommel. He ran his thumb over the blade and gasped as the lightest touch on the blade drew blood. This was clearly a special weapon.

"I think we found something interesting here." Imoen waved off Jeral as the four were marching back the way they came. Jeral grabbed the blade and moved to catch up with the others.

"Well bring it with you Jeral. We must get Tiber his brother's corpse and rest there for the night. We can go no further today." Ajantis extended an arm to Dynaheir and headed southwards towards Tiber's makeshift campsite.

The group made it safely back to the young man's campsite without any further issue. The boy wordlessly loaded his brother's corpse into his handcart and trudged back home, his dreams for adventure shattered by the brutal realities of the real adventuring life. Jeral hoped that the small pouch of gold he surreptitiously tossed in the hand cart would make life a bit easier for Tiber and his parents.

Dynaheir curled into a ball and was asleep within seconds, her body needing recovery time from her spell casting in the hive. Jeral volunteered for the first watch and spent long hours examining the great sword he recovered from the spider's lair. Smiling he stood up and took a few practice swings with the blade. Despite the size of the blade it felt like a much smaller weapon while in his grasp.

While Jeral was recognized the power of such a weapon he also know he was ill suited to weild it. With a blade of three and a half feet in length and a two handed pommel a foot long with was a true great sword and as such was ill suited for one of Jeral's stature. Jeral quietly motioned for Minsc to join him and reverently held the blade out to the ranger hilt first. He laid the flat of the blade across his forearm and formally presented it to the large.

"Minsc, this is truly an incredible weapon. I actually read about this blade years ago. It is one of the most well known weapons in the realms. It is called Spider's Bane. It was create by the high elves centuries ago for the first Lord of Baldur's Gate. It was thought over a hundred years ago. I have no idea how it ended up here or how long it has lain in that foul lair. This blade is heavily enchanted and also protects the wielder from spider webs and other efforts to restrict movement. Also, unlike typical weapons of this type it has a razors edge and will always retain it if well tended."

Minsc reached out and grasped the blade. Stepping back from Jeral he took hold of the sword and took a few practice swings. A huge grin spread over his face as he held the blade at arms length. Watching the massive warrior wield such a blade while wearing his suit of full plate armor made Jeral almost feel pity for any who would cross their path. Ajantis was a strong, well equipped warrior but with this blade Minsc would now be near unstoppable. Jeral looked down at his lightly enchanted chain, small enchanted buckler and enchanted short sword and felt he came up short when measured against the two real warriors. Sighing in resignation Jeral looked up and cheered at the sight of Minsc continuing to grin from ear to ear. Even Boo appeared to be smiling, although that must have been a trick of the evening shadows and the firelight.

"Boo says this weapon will help Minsc protect his witch from all enemies and help Jeral vanquish evil on his noble quest." He propped his old two handed sword gently against a tree and slid Spider's Bane into the scabbard strapped across his back.


	21. Chapter 21: Found It

Chapter 21 – Found It – Day 53

"Well that has to be the place. And about time too, we have been walking for ages." Imoen pushed back a mass of sweat drenched pink hair and pointed to the west towards the late afternoon sun.

Jeral could hear the fatigue in her voice. Ten solid days in the forest, sleeping on the ground, wearing the same clothes; it was taking a toll on all of them. Well, all of them save Minsc. Somehow the large ranger seemed to gain energy the longer he was outdoors surrounded by nature. When fatigue crept into the bodies of the other four Minsc would merely shoulder their pack as well as his own and continue on, contentedly humming a northern marching song. The armor Minsc wore, a well made but non magical suit of full plate mail taken off one of the mercenary leaders in the bandit camp, was almost six stones of burden. Yet he wore his armor as if it was no more than a suit of light leathers. Jeral was continually amazed by the man's stamina, and appreciative beyond all measure that he could call the man an ally and hopefully a friend.

Jeral wearily looked out through the thinning trees and gazed upon a wooden palisade that surrounded a two story wooden building. The building was situated on a small island in the middle of a slow moving river. From their vantage point in the woods they could only see a portion of the structure, but from where they stood there was no visible entrance. Jeral set down his pack and motioned wearily to the others.

"Imoen is right, that clearly must be the Cloakwood mines mentioned in the documents we discovered back at the bandit camp. Stay here, I am going to take a closer look and see if I can find a way in."

Without a word of protest the other four dropped their packs and slumped to the ground. Minsc stretched and stepped off in the woods to ensure that no one surprised the group while they were at rest. Imoen pulled off her purple leather boots and peeled off her knee high socks wrinkling her nose at the smell that confronted her.

"Wow! That smells like that cheese Winthrop used to sell on special occasions." Imoen wrinkled her nose and tossed the socks away as she rubbed her tired feet.

Moving as quietly as he could Jeral slowly crept forward, his long bow grasped firmly in his left hand. Once he reached the edge of the tree line he started sliding to the right, careful to always stay hidden in the woods. As he continued moving he spotted a narrow wooden bridge that crossed the river and ended at an opening in the walls. Apparently the personnel at the mine did not seriously fear for their security as there was no gate or watch towers of any sort. The only visible security was two bored looking guards who leaned heavily against their spears as the stood at the far end of the bridge. Jeral eyed them and estimated that they were no more than 100 yards away. While hitting a moving target at that distance was challenging Jeral had no doubt that he could easily hit one of them from the cover of the trees if necessary. Jeral leaned back against a tree trunk and watched them for an hour to ensure there were no other guards or any real changes to the routine. Other than watching one of the guards piss into the river Jeral did not notice any alterations to their routine during the time they were under his watchful eye. Drawing back deeper into the woods Jeral quietly returned to his companions.

Four members of the party sat in a close circle discussing the best way to enter the mine while Minsc stayed on watch happily roaming the woods.

Imoen looked up from drawing in the dirt with a stick. "So what is the problem? We can take out the two guards without any problem. We just need to ensure neither of them can shout a warning. A hundred yards is probably a tough shot for me with my bow so I cannot help you there Jeral."

"Too true Imoen, I am sure I could take one guard out but the other would likely call for help before I could hit him too." Dynaheir, can any of your spells reach them from the edge of the tree line?"

Smiling grimly she shook her head. "I have nothing that will work for us Jeral. I could reach there with a fireball spell or a lightning bolt but I suspect you want something a little more subtle. And both spells also risk destroying the bridge as well. I do have an invisibility spell in case you wish to scout ahead as you did before the raid on the bandit camp."

"We should probably save that spell for later as we might need to use it to scout the mines. Hopefully we can find another way to take care of those two guards." Jeral suddenly sat bolt upright and started to smile. He turned his head and winked at Imoen. "Hey sis, you up for moonlight swim? This is a good time to see if all the lessons we took in that pool they built during summers at Candlekeep stuck."

Gorion was always insistent that Jeral was well rounded so he went to considerable expense to provide Jeral training in a wide range of different skills. Since Imoen was the only other child in Candlekeep she was often allowed to participate in the training with Jeral.

"You know me, never one to pass up a chance to ditch my clothes. Besides as bad as I smell I really need a bath anyway."

Ajantis dropped his water skin and spit out a mouthful of water as he lurched to his feet. "My lady, surely you jest. Why would you have to undress? That is not proper."

"Lighten up Ajantis. There is no other way we can swim this river. Clothes of any sort would only burden us and slow us down." Imoen then did her best imitation of a pious Helmite, "And we must never forget that we are doing all this in the service of Helm."

Jeral stood up and dusted off his breeches. "Ok we will take out the guards right before first light. Everyone get some sleep. I will take first watch."

Day 54

"By the Gods! This water is cold. Sure did wake me up though."

"I agree with both statements sis."

Forcing his eyes off Imoen's naked and shivering body he continued their discussion. "We had best swim as quickly and quietly as possible." The two siblings both started swimming the river naked as the day they were born; save for the bandoliers of throwing knives they both wore diagonally across their chests. The pair swam with strong powerful strokes across the slowly moving river. Jeral's foot occasionally touched the river bed; apparently the river was not very deep. The two made good progress swimming across the river. As they approached the far bank Jeral nodded to Imoen and quickly swam under the bridge. As Imoen watched him swim away she started counting slowly to one hundred.

_One, two, three …_

Imoen slowly swam up to the side of the bridge and rested her feet against the scaly piling under the water. She cautiously eyed the pair of guards leaning lazily against the wall next to the archway into the complex. They were about twenty feet away; Imoen smiled confidently and continued counting.

_Eighty one, eighty two, eighty three…._

Imoen pulled out a pair of throwing knives. She hefted each one to check the balance and picked her favorite, holding the second knife in her off hand. Grasping the blade she pulled her arm back and focused on her target. The first rays of morning light were peeking out behind in the eastern sky. She smiled as the sun warmed her shoulders pushing away the goose bumps.

_Ninety nine…_

Imoen tensed, held her breath, and threw her knife. She quickly moved the second knife to her right hand and prepared to throw again. Smiling grimly she smiled as she watched her target fall to the ground with her knife buried in his throat. His spear fell from his lifeless arm as he rolled over on his stomach and died under her watchful gaze, a pool of blood slowly spreading out under his body.

Jeral was only at ninety three when he watched the guard on the left fall to the ground with Imoen's knife in his throat. The second guard turned to the right and quickly leveled his spear as he scanned for the threat. Jeral smiled as he pulled back his arm to throw.

_Imoen always counted too fast, I should have known. Although now I get an easier target since the guard is looking away._

Jeral hurled his knife towards the guard's back. Unfortunately for Jeral the guard spotted Imoen in the water and lurched towards her leveling his spear as he went. Instead of the knife striking a killing blow it merely grazed the guard and sliced through his padded armor leaving a shallow cut on his right side. The man spun around, spied Jeral in the water, and started shouting an alarm.

"Drasus! To me! You and your companions need to get here now! Your target is here, come kill him! We are under attack!" The man continued to shout as he moved towards Jeral spear held at the ready.

"Imoen, get back to the others. I will take care of this one."

Jeral lifted himself onto the bridge and hurled a knife and the advancing guard. The man flinched and the knife bounced harmlessly away. He had somehow managed to deflect it with his spear.

"I guess I really am lucky. Boy, me friends call me Lucky Recaro. If I gut you maybe I get the bounty on your head all for myself."

As the man quickly advanced Jeral watched as his eyes traveled down Jeral's body. The guard smirked and stared Jeral in the eye.

"I hope that is just due to really cold water boyo, otherwise that is just sad."

"It's just shrinkage!" Roaring in anger Jeral lowered his head and changed the guard. Ducking under the man's sloppy spear thrust Jeral barreled into him and the two of them plunged into the river. On the way in Jeral caught a fleeting view of Imoen sprinting back down the bridge towards their companions. His last thought was of the lovely view of Imoen's backside as he hit the water.

The cold water brought him back to the present as he felt the guard's hands scratching at his face. Jeral forced himself to focus as he wrapped his hands around the guard's neck and started to squeeze. Jeral levered his legs under the bridge and pushed out, driving the guard's body into the gravelly river bed. He focused all his energy into his hands and imagined that he could feel the man's life leaving him. Jeral held onto the man until well after he stopped struggling. Lungs bursting Jeral gave one final squeeze and then released the body to drift off downstream. Jeral surfaced and pulled himself up onto the bridge in one smooth movement.

He greedily sucked in air as he lay back on the bridge. He started to shiver uncontrollably in the cool morning air. He rolled his head back and looked into the complex. He saw four dangerous looking men standing around a table in the middle of the courtyard. The four men were obviously bounty hunters and had clearly been waiting for Jeral and his friends to arrive. Two large armored warriors were slowly walking towards Jeral trailed by a pair of men in mage robes. One warrior was armored in plate with a morning star and shield while the second was in chain mail holding a large battle axe. All four looked extremely dangerous and Jeral realized they would be a real threat to the group.

"Just want I need, more bounty hunters out for my head." Jeral mumbled to himself and he rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself to his feet. Jeral realized he was stark naked and down to two throwing knives as he stood only thirty yards away from the quartet of fast approaching men.

"Arachnia impedia!"

Jeral extended his hands and a small orb of pulsing white energy flew from his hands and landed right in front of the bounty hunters. Once the orb touched the ground a wall of webbing exploded out in all directions. Three of the bounty hunters were quickly entangled in the webbing and started struggling to free themselves. Jeral was stunned to see the fourth man, the warrior holding the battle axe, spring forward and quickly outrace the expanding ball of webbing.

_How can he move that fast?_

Jeral drew his remaining two throwing knives and hurled one, and then the other, at the fast approaching warrior. The man twisted and threw himself into a forward roll. His unnaturally fast moves meant that neither knife did anything more than scratch the large warrior. He came out of his forward roll in a ready crouch and slashed out with his battle axe. Jeral hopped up and the axe blade swung under his feet.

Jeral backpedaled and held his hands out for balance. Smiling the warrior growled at Jeral.

"No chance for another spell laddie, I am not gonna give you the opening." The fighter sneered and showed a mouth full of black cracked teeth. "Seems hardly sporting to kill an unarmed nekkid man but a bounty is a bounty. When I bring Reiltar your head I will receive a king's ransom in riches for Drasus always gets the job done."

"Sorta like my head where it is good looking. So let's agree to disagree on that." The bounty hunter slashed towards Jeral and he flung himself backwards. His reflexes ensured that a sure killing blow merely left a shallow slash across his chest. Jeral placed a hand on his chest and felt the blood trickling through his fingers. He eyed his opponent warily and prepared himself to dive back into the river. As he uncoiled his legs and hurled himself backwards he caught a glimpse of an arrow striking the warrior in the chest as he entered the water.

_Way to go Imoen! _

Jeral surfaced and watched as Minsc and Ajantis took on the axe wielding bounty hunter. Even outnumbered two to one the man gave ground reluctantly. He twirled his axe in an intricate pattern deflecting blows from both warriors. While the two warriors engaged Drasus Imoen fired arrows at the pair of mages ensnared in Jeral's webbing. Dynaheir quickly launched a fireball into the webbing and Jeral watched as the two mages were incinerated in the blast. The plate clad warrior was only slightly burned. Now free of the webbing he hefted his morning star and shield and charged towards the combat on the bridge. Jeral pulled himself up onto the bridge and ran over to Imoen. Reaching over to Imoen's side Jeral drew Imoen's short sword and ran forward to support Ajantis and Minsc.

Ajantis slid past the bounty hunter to engage the second fighter while Minsc continued to attack the chain clad fighter while he parried blow after blow with his axe. Jeral waited until the bounty hunter raised his axe high to block a downward slash from Minsc. Seeing his chance Jeral stabbed forward and Imoen's lightly enchanted blade slid smoothly through the man's chain shirt and buried deep in his stomach. Jeral felt the man's warm blood wash over his arm as he withdrew the blade and watched the man crumple at his feet. As soon as the man fell Minsc moved forward to support Ajantis. Jeral hung back and watched as the three plate clad warriors dueled. Jeral placed his hand on his chest and focused his mind on the wound and could feel the flesh knit back together under his touch.

_Still not sure how I can do that_, he mused, _but right now I will take it._

Ajantis and Minsc fought well together. One would attack high while the other struck low. The remaining bounty hunter was totally on the defensive and steadily sliding backwards and he used every trick he knew to stay alive. Ajantis and Minsc wordlessly changed their pattern and they both attacked the man's legs. He blocked the Helmite's attack with his shield, however he was unable to respond to the attack from the large ranger and his blow sliced off the man's left leg at the knee. With a scream he dropped his shield and morning star and toppled to the ground and grasped his bloody leg in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. Ajantis, Minsc and Jeral stood over the man and watched him bleed.

Ajantis turned and locked eyes with Jeral. "We must aid this man."

"Ajantis, we do not have a cleric with us and we have no healing potions to spare." Jeral's tone implied that he was still bitter over Viconia's departure.

Ajantis knelt down and quickly removed the armored plates from the man's leg. The then ripped the man's tunic, and fashioned a quick tourniquet a few inches above the bloody stump of his left leg. The flow of blood slowed to a trickle and then stopped as Ajantis tightened the tourniquet and tied it off. Ajantis stood and wiped his blood stained hands on his tunic.

"There you go Jeral. We may have saved his life with no need for the accursed drow cleric or wasting a precious healing potion. And Jeral, your wound has closed. How did that happen?"

Before Jeral could form any sort of reply Imoen piped up behind them. "Well these fine folks were top flight bounty hunters hired by the head of the Iron Throne in Baldur's Gate. Some guy named Reiltar paid these four to kill Jeral and his companions." Imoen tossed a bounty notice to Jeral and contined to search the corpses for valuables.

"Oooooh this one has a purse full of platinum. And this one has a necklace that will be worth a lot. And a potion of some sort. Too bad the other two were roasted; all of their valuables were destroyed in the fire." Imoen dusted herself off and returned to the group.

"And Jeral, I would suggest that it is well past time for you to reclaim your clothes. Walking around naked in mixed company is not proper behavior." Dynaheir eyed him up and down and a small smile formed at the edges of her mouth. Blushing, Jeral excused himself, handed Imoen her sword, and ran back to the wood line to reclaim his clothes, armor and equipment. Jeral quickly dressed, put his chain mail back on and picked up his weapons. He added his pack to the pile of equipment that the party would not take into the mines and headed back to rejoin the party.

Pausing at the corpse of the chain clad fighter Jeral bent down and examined the man's boots. Smiling he pulled off the boots and carried them forward to his companions. Tossing them down in front of the others, Jeral smugly announced "enchanted boots to make the wearer move rapidly, who wants em?"

"Minsc can use such boots to more quickly reach evil to dispense badly needed justice." A shrill squeak from Boo had Minsc looking shamefaced as he continued. "Boo says it might not be wise to allow Minsc to run ahead of the others whenever he wished." Jeral chuckled, "Boo is very wise Minsc. It is best to listen to him."

"Jeral, I would be proud to wear such footwear. Since I am usually in the lead I can more quickly close with the enemy or retreat to a safer location."

"Ajantis, that makes sense to me. Perhaps Dynaheir can take the boots you have now. Some additional protection from missile weapons would be a good idea since she is our only mage and critical to our survival." Ajantis nodded his agreement and quickly removed his old boots and put on the new ones. The enchantments in the boots made them instantly adjust to the correct size. Ajantis dashed back to the far side of the bridge and then back faster that Jeral could believe. The increased speed from the boots was impressive and would come in very handy.

Dynaheir picked up the other set of enchanted boots and reluctantly placed them on her feet. Jeral watched as they shrunk down to fit her small feet. Dynaheir signed deeply and stared at her feet. "Well they are not much to look at but they are comfortable, so that is something."

"And they should help keep you alive so that probably counts for something as well."

Dynaheir smirked despite herself. "Thank you for your concern Jeral. That is indeed touching. I think we had best continue on and enter the mines for we have wasted enough time." Ajantis and Dynaheir led the way as the party cautiously walked deeper into the complex looking for the entrance to the mine itself.


	22. Chapter 22: Into the mines

_Greetings all. This chapter got away from me a bit so the Mines will end up in two parts. Please bear with me._

_Sunnysoul, thank you for the excellent feedback. I do plan on going back and tightening up the earlier chapters when I get the time. This is the first time I have tried to write anything like this so I am definitely learning as I go. so thank you for reading and for the feedback. I really to appreciate it. _

Chapter 22 – Into the mines – Day 54

"So to recap, after killing about two dozen guards on the upper level of the mine we still have to fight our way through three more levels of this awful place, fight a dangerous wizard, recover a key, flood the mines and then make it to the surface before we all drown?"

"Imoen, I am impressed. You listening skills have really improved. I thought you were not even listening when Ajantis and I were talking to Pilar. Although you did fail to mention the part where we need to find Rill and free all the slaves on the second level of the mine."

"Details, details. I got the gist of it. Besides, to be fair, I was really just staring at Ajantis and happened to overhear the conversation while I was undressing him with my eyes."

"Wow, just wow."

Jeral chuckled to himself and moved ahead of Imoen as the group descended to the second level of the mines. The stairs ended in a small entry chamber with hallways in the center of the northern and southern walls. The room held a small table, four chairs and a weapons rack. It was clearly a guard post but for some reason it was unoccupied.

"We need a way to find our way down to the third level. This level is supposed to be crawling with guards and black talon mercenaries if Pilar is to be believed but we still need to get through this level somehow. We were fortunate to catch the guards on the upper level unprepared and in small groups. I suspect the guards down here will be well prepared for our arrival. My time in the Order gave we experience in large scale combat, these small skirmishes are a new experience for me so I am not sure how best to proceed."

Ajantis warily watched the northern hallway while Minsc eyed the southern one.

"Ajantis, you do have a point. I guess it is time for a little scouting. Dynaheir, can you make me invisible again?"

"But of course Jeral, that spell is one I learned as a child. The casting of it is simplicity itself."

"Well that may be true but I am having the hardest time learning it."

Jeral started to make a neat pile of equipment on the ground, removing anything that could make noise and reveal his position. He first laid down his bow and quiver. He then pulled off his chain mail armor and the padded under tunic. He also laid his enchanted buckler on the ground and took off his leather boots. Down to his dark brown breeches and a green long sleeve tunic Jeral nodded to the mage as he drew his short sword and laid his sword belt on the ground.

"Ok Dynaheir, whenever you are ready."

The mage mumbled a few words under her breath and wiggled her fingers at Jeral and he winked out of site.

"My thanks; you do make it look easy. I am going to take a look around. If you have to move please do not leave my armor or long bow here as I am pretty attached to them." With those last words Jeral moved quietly off down the southern corridor. As he passed a wall mounted torch the slightest shadow was visible in the strong light, but once he moved more than a few feet away from the torch the faint shadow faded.

"Imoen, he moves very quietly. Where did he learn to move like that?" Smiling proudly Imoen puffed up her chest and turned towards the mage.

"I taught him. Gorion would not let him learn how to be a thief, he absolutely forbade it. So I taught him whatever I could from my lessons with Winthrop. When he gets something he just gets it, he can be a very quick study. He is good with his hands so he can do card tricks and a few other things the type of which Ajantis would not approve. He is rubbish with locks and traps for he has no mechanical aptitude at all. And he cannot climb a wall without a rope, but he can move pretty quietly when he wants to."

"Ahem. I feel I must interject. My lady, please do not take this the wrong way but how could he possibly have learned to move quietly from studying with you? It is apparent to all that you cannot move silently. You seem to favor impractical footwear and clearly lack the discipline and patience needed for stealth despite your considerable agility."

Imoen's face reddened as she turned to rest her gaze on Ajantis. She replied through gritted teeth as her right boot tapped angrily on the stone floor.

"I will have you know this is very practical footwear. These are well made leather boots; they repel water, and are a lovely shade of purple. They have a firm sole so they wear well and a metal cap on the toes for use as a weapon. They also only have a two inch heel which makes them the most practical footwear that I own. If your feet were not in armored green booties I would show you exactly what I can do with the heels of my boots."

Imoen turned away with a flip of her pink hair and strode noisily to the other side of the room to stand watch next to Minsc, tapping her foot angrily.

Imoen heard her own footfalls echoing in the darkness and hung her head. After composing herself she turned back to Ajantis and the others.

Smiling weakly she continued, "Ajantis, Jeral did not learn his movement from me. He actually learned it from dance lessons. It was one of many things we learned while at Candlekeep. Jeral is incredibly agile and has excellent balance. When he wants to do so he can move almost as quietly as a master thief. So while I may have provided some pointers he did learn it largely on his own."

Ajantis bowed his head and smiled at Imoen. "I apologize for any offence taken. I will not speak of your shoes again." Imoen just laughed and stuck her tongue out at the paladin as the four waited for Jeral to return.

After waiting for the better part of an hour a soft whistle cut through the tense silence.

"And here I am."

Jeral slammed his palm against the stone wall and he popped back into sight. Jeral pulled two full quivers of arrows off his shoulder and handed one to Imoen.

"Here you go sis, there is a well stocked armory on this level so I took the liberty of getting both of us arrows since we were almost out." Imoen inspected the arrows and finding that they met her approval she transferred them to her own quiver.

"So Jeral, where are the guards on this level?"

"It looks like they have all pulled back to a guard room on the far side of the level. There is a large cell that houses a few hundred slaves, mostly women and children. It is completely unguarded. Since I cannot find a way down to the next level and could not see any guards I assume they are guarding the only stairs down. The hallway is magically trapped so I could not take a closer look."

"Magically trapped Jeral? How can you be sure about that?"

"There are runes etched on the floor, looks like a pair of lightening traps but I am not sure. I figured you would know better than me." Jeral methodically put his armor and equipment back on and readied himself. Jeral patted Minsc on the shoulder and lead the way.

"Ok, follow me; it looks clear until we get to the guard room and the magical runes I found. Once we deal with the guards we can return for the slaves and let them out."

Jeral led off with Ajantis and Minsc flowing him closely. Dynaheir and Imoen trailed behind the three as they wended through the second level of the mine. After walking for about a quarter hour Jeral halted at a hallway junction. The way ahead ended at a dark stone wall fifty feet ahead. The well lit passageway to the right turned sharply to the left after approximately ten feet. The faint sounds of people talking echoed faintly down the hall. Jeral edged to the corner and quickly peeked around the corner. He knelt down and motioned for Dynaheir to come closer. He motioned to the floor.

"See those runes?" Jeral whispered to the mage as he pointed at a couple of spots on the hallway floor. Dynaheir bent down and rested her hands on Jeral's shoulders. Squinting she stared intently for a couple minutes. Jeral was almost ready to ask if she fell asleep before she stirred and walked back to stand next to Minsc. Jeral followed her and started at her quizzically.

"Jeral, explain to me exactly what you see on the floor over there?"

"There are two long lines of glowing runes and I could read the word lightening in the runes so I suspected that it was a lightening trap. Am I wrong?"

"Far from it Jeral, you are exactly right. There are two sets of lightening runes across the floor exactly where you indicated. The question I have is how did you ever manage to see them?"

"What do you mean? The runes were there, I saw them, and you saw them."

Dynaheir pursed her lips together and wrinkled her brow in concern. "Jeral, only the strongest of mages can detect magical runes for they are specifically designed to withstand observation of any form. Your arcane skills are rudimentary at best, I could cast stronger spells that you when I was ten years old. Yes somehow you can detect magical energies like an arch mage."

"I don't understand Dynaheir, you saw the runes."

"You are correct. I did see the runes but only because you told me exactly where to look and only after a couple minutes of intense concentration. With your limited abilities you should have walked right into that trap and been incinerated."

"Well I guess I got lucky. Can you dispel them?" Dynaheir snorted quietly in response.

"Absolutely no chance. I can dispel some simple enchantments but runes like this are from a level of magic beyond my skills."

"So that means we likely have a significant number of guards, potentially with the assistance of a skilled mage. Excellent." Jeral shrugged his shoulders in surrender and looked over to Ajantis and Imoen.

"Ok, any ideas how we can get through this? We need to get past this trap without getting killed and still be ready to fight against whoever is down the hall and around the corner." Ajantis shook his head and clenched and unclenched his hand on the pommel of his enchanted long sword. Jeral trained his eyes on Imoen and was startled to see her grinning from ear to ear.

"I have a plan, back in a few minutes. Dynaheir we will need your haste spell shortly."

With a twinkle in her eye she grabbed Minsc by the hand and headed back down the corridor. Ajantis, Dynaheir and Jeral exchanged looks as the pair walked out of site.

After about a quarter of an hour Imoen skipped back into sight with Minsc following closely behind her. The large man was carrying corpses of guards on each massive shoulder. Despite the morbid scene Minsc seemed quite untroubled as he trailed Imoen and stopped in front of Jeral and Dynaheir.

Ajantis inhaled sharply and glared at Imoen. "My lady, why did you make Minsc defile those bodies?"

Imoen winked at the paladin and smiled innocently. "He just picked them up. As for defiling them, well you have not seen anything yet good looking." The smile left her face as Imoen started directing actions of the others. "Minsc is going to trigger the traps with those bodies, I will scream and hopefully at least a few of the guards will come to finish me off. Once they come around the corner we take them out and then figure it out from there."

Ajantis looked concerned but nodded grimly as he drew his sword. "Very well milady. I suppose that plan is as good as any other." Jeral notched an arrow and stepped back, motioning Dynaheir and Imoen to stand behind him.

"Im, are you sure the bodies will trigger the runes?"

"Well that explains why your spell casting is so weak Jeral. You were not paying attention to Gorion during all of our courses on the theory of magic."

"Hey! I listened," Jeral replied defensively, "well most of the time anyway."

"Well if you had listened you would know that enchanted runes can respond to any sort of movement when cast by all save the most senior mages. So unless this mage is as powerful as Gorion the corpses should fool the spell and trigger the runes."

"Imoen, I must say I am impressed. You will make an excellent mage and it would be my honor to train you." Imoen beamed ear to ear as she flashed Dynaheir a quick smile. She then pointed at Minsc and told him to toss the bodies around the corner. Minsc grabbed each corpse in a meaty hand and easily tossed them around the corner and then stepped back quickly and drew the Spider's Bane from the scabbard on his back. The corpses landed wetly on the floor and triggered the runes. A pair of lightning bolts blasted out from the floor and bounced back and forth in the corridor about a half dozen times before petering out. As the first bolt struck the far wall Imoen screamed in terror and called out for help. Minsc walked backwards a half dozen steps and stood ready next to Ajantis.

"You two! Check for survivors!"

A woman's commanding voice echoed from around the corner. A pair of guards came around the corner, swords drawn. They were clad in leather armor topped with a black tunic trimmed in red, the same livery as the guards on the upper level of the mine. They cried out an alarm and charged Ajantis and Minsc. Swords clashed loudly as the guards closed with Ajantis and Minsc and met them blade for blade. The two lightly armored guards had little chance against two well trained plate clad swordsmen and quickly fell to the mine floor, dead from their wounds.

Expecting more guards the group stood tensed and ready watching the corner, ready for anything.

Instead of more guards a woman's laugh echoed down the hallway.

"No more fodder for you fools. If you want to continue you heroic quest you need to get through me for the only stairs down to the next level in here." The voice was dripping with scorn as the female voice mocked the party. The sound of furniture scraping across the floor and tables being turned over accompanied her taunts. Clearly she and her colleagues were preparing for an attack.

Dynaheir smiled and started preparing a spell. "Come closer all of you." After a few seconds a familiar tingling sensation flowed through Jeral's body as Dynaheir's haste spell took effect. Dynaheir took a deep cleansing breath and started casting a second spell. Her hands started rubbing one another as if she was cold and a small ball of flame soon sprang into existence. Jeral laid his bow down on the floor and drew his short sword. Looking around he smiled at Imoen and patted Minsc on the back.

"Ok once the fireball explodes we will charge in and kill everyone there. Imoen, hang back and cover us with your bow."

Everyone stood tense and ready as they all paused to watch Dynaheir. After creating an apple sized ball of fire she opened her hands and extended her arms away from her body. The burning orb hung in the air for a second as if unsure where to go. Dynaheir clenched and unclenched her hands and sweat started to bead on her face as she focused on her spell. The ball waiver and shook as if it was fighting to resist her control. It finally started to move down the hall, it hit the wall and then slid to the right into the room. After a few seconds it exploded in a huge eruption of heat and fire. A wave of flame rolled down the hallway and then disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Ajantis yelled, "Forward to smite our enemies, for Helm smiles upon us this day!"

Minsc bellowed "Go for the eyes Boo!" and the two plate clad warriors charged into the guard room.

_Well nothing I can say can top those two, I need to work on my heroic monologues._ Jeral took a deep breath and charged into the guard room.

As he rounded the corner he quickly took in the scene before him. Dynaheir's fireball had burst in the center of the guard room. A pair of long tables were sideways on the floor serving as protective walls for the room's defenders. Close to a dozen guards were strewn across the roomcharred to death. A dark haired attractive woman stood behind the right hand table patting out the flames on her scarlet mage robes. She was flanked by four guards clad in scale mail and red tunics. All four of them showed damage from the fiery blast but they were still very much in the fight. Ajantis and Minsc spread out and ran towards each end of the table. The four guards turned in pairs to face off against the two warriors.

_The fastest path between two points is a straight line_, Jeral smiled as he recounted one of Gorion's most regularly repeated expressions from math lessons back in Candlekeep. The smile faded as Jeral realized he would never see his father again and that he would never again roll his eyes at one of Gorion's interesting but long winded lessons. Jeral raced across the room, placed his left hand arm on the table and hopped over the table stabbing out at the mage as he did so. Her eyes widened as his bladed closed in on her. Before he could run her through the heart she extended her right hand and fanned her fingers.

A jet of rainbow colors flared out and filled his vision. Pain wracked his body and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as any hope of resisting the spell faded from view. The enchanted short sword fell out of his lifeless fingers as his limp body crashed at her feet and his head slammed into the cold stone floor.

"JERAL!"

Imoen screamed her brother's name and launched an arrow at the mage. Totally focused on the man lying defenseless at her feet the red robed mage was completely unprepared for Imoen's assault. The arrow buried deep in her breast, burying itself to the fletching. She locked eyes with Imoen as the pain of the attack registered in her brain. The pain caused her to shudder and she started coughing up blood as her legs weakened.

"Die bitch."

Imoen carefully aimed in, loosed, and her second arrow buried itself in the woman's chest, mere inches from the first shaft. The second arrow pierced the woman's heart and she dropped like a stone to lie on top of Jeral. Imoen drew another arrow and scanned right. Minsc had just dropped his second opponent and stood ready as he scanned the room for additional threats. The Spider's Bane was covered in blood but Minsc seemed unhurt, his grinning almost childlike visage making a striking contrast to the carnage surrounding him. Imoen tracked her gaze to the left and noticed that the second guard opposing Ajantis dropped his sword and started begging for his life. Ajantis commanded the man to lie on the ground and promised that he would not be harmed. Ajantis then tore his tunics into strips, bound the man's hands behind his back and gagged him. Ajantis then sat him upright in the corner and commanded him to be still.

Imoen hopped over the table and roughly pushed the mage's bloody corpse off Jeral.

"Minsc, find me some water." The ranger quickly did a circuit of the room and returned with two full water skins. Imoen emptied the first onto Jeral's head and chest. She lifted his head to rest it in her lap.

"It does not look like any of the blood is his."

"Boo says that Jeral lives, he is just sleeping right now."

Imoen knew it was ridiculous but somehow she knew that Jeral was ok if the hamster said he was. Slumping back against the wall she took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

"Well that was exciting."

On the far side of the room Imoen noticed a heavily barred door on the right side of the wall while a wide set of stairs heading down were on the left side of the wall. Ajantis stood watch at the top of the stairs, the tip of his long sword resting on the ground as he stood relaxed, yet wary.

"Minsc, where is Dynaheir?" The ranger looked around the room and quickly strode back the way they had entered. Seconds later he returned with Dynaheir cradled in his arms.

Imoen leapt to her feet, dropping Jeral's head to the floor as she did so.

"Dynaheir, are you injured?"

"Not at all Imoen, merely tired, so very tired. Casting my version of the ball of fire takes quite a bit out of me, particularly after casting the haste spell immediately before hand."

"Can you continue?"

"I will be fine, just let me rest briefly and I will recover."

Minsc picked up a chair from the floor, dusted it off with his hand and set it in the center of the room. He placed Dynaheir gently into it and stood behind her with his arms crossed across his massive chest.

Looking around at the group Imoen realized that until Jeral was back on his feet she would need to take charge.

"Right, I am going to search this room. Minsc please watch the way we came since Ajantis is already watching the stairs and our prisoner. Dynaheir you just rest. We will need both you and Jeral before we continue." Imoen started humming to herself as she started to search the room. She directed Minsc to straighten up the table and chairs and salvaged what food and water she could from the mess on the floor. She started stacking the loot onto the table. Shortly there was a heavy coin pouch, two dozen enchanted arrows, and two potion bottles.

Finished with her work Imoen picked up a small block of cheese and walked over to the locked and barred door.

"Well this has to be the prison that Pilar mentioned that houses Rill. Too bad none of these folks had a key. Guess I need to do it the hard way"

Imoen unrolled her lock picks on the ground and selected a pair that she thought suitable for the lock in front of her. Brows knitted in concentration she worked the picks back and forth for a couple minutes until there was a small click.

"Ok, that should do it. Minsc, can you please unbar the door?"

Minsc walked over and hefted the large iron bar from the door as if it weighed no more than a small stick. He carefully laid it down in the corner and then grabbed the door pull and heaved the door open. Groaning on hinges badly in need of oil the door slowly swung open. The smell of rot and human waste wafted out of the prison and forced everyone to fight down a wave of nausea.

"Wow that is not pleasant." Imoen quickly wrapped a scarf around her mouth and nose and entered the prison with Minsc close behind her. A dozen small cells lined the walls on each side of a central hallway. As Imoen and Minsc walked down the hall they saw corpses chained to the wall in the first few cells on each side. Whatever transgressions that landed them in these dark cells cost them their lives.

"Those poor men. Will we find anyone alive in here or did the guards kill all of them?" Imoen wailed in despair and leaned heavily on the large ranger. Minsc placed one large mailed arm around her as they continued walking further down the prison hallway.

"This be your lucky day lass, and mine as well for here be two survivors."

Imoen slipped free of Minsc and raced down the hall searching for the voice she just heard. She skidded to a stop before a cell door and quickly picked the simple lock and pulled open the door. Inside stood the tallest, skinniest dwarf she had ever seen. His ribs and hip bones were prominently visible; clearly this member of the thickly built dwarven race had been poorly fed for some time. Standing over four and a half feet tall he was half a head taller than most of his kind. His reddish beard and hair were dirty, matted, and streaked with grey. The dwarf was naked save for a pair of tattered breeches held in place with a frayed piece of twine.

He walked towards Imoen on unsteady legs, 'introductions can wait my good lady, please free Rill, his cell is next to mine. His life matters far more than my worthless hide." Nodding quickly Imoen turned on her heel and opened the next cell door. The smell of infection and rot drove her to her knees as she ripped her scarf away from her face as she retched up her breakfast from so many hours earlier. A man lay flat on his back in the middle of the cell. Clad in only the briefest of loin cloths his body was a mass of burns, bruises and pus filled wounds. His left foot was facing an unnatural direction and the white of his shattered shin bone was clearly visible sticking out from the skin of his emaciated leg. At the opening of the door he rolled his head to the side, that simple effort seemed to take all the strength that remained in his body as he shuddered from the exertion.

"By Moradin's forge, they have tortured Rill far more than I imagined. You! Long limbs. Find me water! Ale or wine as well" The dwarf sat down and placed his hands on the broken limb. Imoen watched transfixed as the bone slowly mended and slid back into the man's leg with fresh pink skin as the only evidence of the prior trauma. The dwarf bowed his head again and placed his hands on Rill's scar covered chest. Color seemed to return to the man's body as many of the wounds slowly closed in from of Imoen's eyes. The dwarf watched the color slowly return to the man's face and grunted once as he slowly got to his feet.

"Right, he is out of danger now. Pardon my poor manners. Let us get some fresh air and do introductions proper like. Wiping his gore filled hands on his breeches he walked out of the cell with Imoen close behind. As he entered the guard room Minsc presented him with a water skin and a jug of ale. Smiling broadly the dwarf took the jug and lifted it to his lips. Gulping greedily he emptied the jug, ale streaming down his beard. Once the jug was empty he handed it back to Minsc and belched loudly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Ahhhhhhhhh, I needed that. Nothing like a good jug of dwarven stout to fix what ails ya. Only a few of those jugs remain. Moradin has smiled upon me this day. Please give a little water to Rill while I chat with the lass here." Minsc trotted off to provide water to the injured man.

The dwarf placed his hands on his hips and slowly took in the scene before him. Apparently pleased by what he saw he smiled and clapped his hands together.

"Right, so to introductions. I am Yeslick, last of the Silverhammer clan and follower of the great forger. I thank you for my freedom; I am not sure how much longer I would have lasted. Consider me in your debt." He bowed deeply to Imoen, and then repeated the motion to, Dynaheir and Ajantis.

When he locked eyes on Ajantis he smiled and walked over with an outreached hand.

"Ahhhh a follower of the balanced one. It is an honor to meet another man of faith even if they are not fortunate enough to be a follower of Moradin." Yeslick's smile showed the last comment was delivered largely in jest to Ajantis took no offense.

Ajantis beamed and eagerly shook hands. "The honor is mine Yeslick Silverhammer."

A low groan came from the ground in one corner. Yeslick whirled around, fists raised, fire in his eyes, ready for anything until a gauntleted hand settled on his shoulder.

"Stand easy master dwarf. That is Jeral, one of our companions; he was injured in the fighting."

"He is not just one of your companions. He is your leader and he lies injured." Yeslick quickly moved to stand beside Jeral and he helped the bard to his feet. He gently steered the unsteady man into a chair and spent a few minutes checking him for injuries. When he touched the back of Jeral's head his hand came away slick with blood. He quickly ran his hands over Jeral's skull and roughly pried his eye lids open to watch Jeral's eyes focus.

"Ah, tis but a scratch Jeral. Your skull is intact; it may hurt a bit but no real damage done."

Jeral blinked his eyes and struggled to focus. Seeing Imoen and Minsc he relaxed and allowed himself a wry smile.

"Only damage done is to my pride. And pardon my directness but who are you and how do you know my name?"

Before the dwarf could form a response Ajantis jumped in with a question of his own, "and what makes you think he is our leader?"

"Slow down, you humans are always in such a rush. I suppose that is due to your short life span. I will answer Jeral first good paladin. My name, as I told your companions, is Yeslick. I am the last of the clan Silverhammer. For weeks the guards have spoken of little else but the great archer Jeral and his brave companions. I first heard mention of your name when you escaped the night of the death of the great mage Gorion. At the time the guards were taking bets on how long you would survive alone in the wild. At some point they stopped betting against you. Your every victory has caused great anger here in the mines and in Baldur's Gate. Any guard who says your name aloud will earn twenty lashes, should a slave utter your name the penalty is death. The Iron Throne fears you and wants you dead. Not sure what they have to fear but I suspect there is more to you than meets the eye. Nothing personal laddie but Dwarven children wield swords like yours. Our men and women folk wield war hammers or battle axes."

"As to your question noble paladin, Jeral is clearly the leader for it is his quest. He is central to whatever future the fates hold for this land. From what I have heard from the guards and the mages who command them his heritage makes him a threat."

Yeslick whirled around to face Jeral and dropped to a knee. "Jeral of Candlekeep, I swear in the very mines of my forefathers to aid you in your quest. I will see you succeed and I will have my revenge. This I swear by Moradin's beard!"

Jeral stood up and smiled down at the dwarf.

"Arise noble dwarf. I welcome your assistance as we are always in the need of worthy companions. However, I must ask what skills do you have to aid us in our quest?"

Smiling Yeslick stood and puffed out his broad yet bony chest. "Give me a good war hammer and shield and I can lay waste to my enemies with some small skill. But my real gift is as a healer."

"I have rarely heard of any dwarves with such skill." Dynaheir spoke matter of factly as a professor speaks to a wayward student.

"Ahh that is true enough. My gifts are rare for one of my kind. And that is the only reason I yet live. For five years I have remained caged in this prison, only kept alive to provide treatment for the guards when they were injured or ill."

"Hold on. They let you rest unhindered when you could pray to your God?"

"Aye they did Jeral. I prayed every night to Moradin for guidance and the ability to heal."

"Why did you not pray for the power to escape? From what I have read there are many powerful diving magics that could allow you to flee."

"Aye there are. Only two problems. First, I was told if I escaped they would kill 50 slaves in my absence, all women and children. And second, I gave my word that I would not use my divine powers to escape. That was a condition of my imprisonment. And a dwarf will never break his word. Least not one of my clan. Please excuse me while I check on Rill. Yeslick took the water skin from Minsc, grabbed a wheel of cheese of the table and walked back into the prison hallway."

"Ok, so can someone catch me up please?"

"Sure Jeral. That is easy. After Dynaheir hasted us and launched her little surprise into the room we all charged in. Minsc and Ajantis were battling the remaining guards while you took a heroic leap over the table heading towards the lady mage. She knocked you out with a spell…."

"I just saw a jet of colors and then everything went black."

"Probably a prismatic spray Jeral."

"Hey, you two, stop interrupting. So where was I? Ok so our intrepid leader was down on the ground. Ajantis and Minsc were busy and Dynaheir was exhausted from casting her spells. So that left it up to me. I took out the mage and then rescued the two surviving prisoners."

Jeral looked at the two arrows buried in the woman's chest and smiled at Imoen. "Nice shooting."

Imoen blushed and looked down at her purple boots. "Thanks but it was nothing. At such close range I could hardly miss." Then she looked up with a twinkle in her eyes. "Imagine how well I could shoot with those enchanted bracers of yours."

"Yeah that's not gonna happen sis. Nice try though. Right. We have rested long enough. Ajantis, what do you suggest we do next?"

"We must ready ourselves for another fight and descend to the third level of this mine. To reach the master of the mines we must continue onwards."

"If you go down those steps you will die." The party turned and saw the emaciated scarred man leaning heavily on Yeslick. He looked terrible but the fire in his eyes showed he was no longer close to death. "There are over 100 guards down below, commanded by an Ogre Magi. You have no chance. None."

"How can you possibly know that?" Ajantis challenged.

"I have worked in these mines for 3 years. I have some skill with metal so I worked the forge making weapons and armor for the guards. The guards you have met already are the fodder, designed to control the emaciated and unarmed slaves. The men and creatures below are the elite fighters who serve as raiders to capture more slaves. By now they know that you are here and they will be waiting for you. Ask Bartic there if you do not believe me." Rill pointed to the bound guard in the corner. "That one has worked her for about a year, and is nicer than most of the guards. He will confirm everything I told you."

"We must stop the master of the mines and this is the only way down there."

"There is another way. To go down we must first go up."

"How could you possibly know that good dwarf?"

"That is easy master Jeral. Years ago these were the mines of my kin, these were the Silverhammer mines. I was born here, I was raised her, my clan died here. There is a way. I will show you the way and we both may get our vengeance."


	23. Chapter 23: Master of the mines

Chapter 23 – Master of the mines – Day 54

"Ok so we will follow your lead Yeslick. Where should we begin?"

"Jeral, before we depart this level we must free the slaves from their cells. Then we will lead them to the kitchens and the armory. Once suitably prepared we will head to the first level and free any remaining slaves there. Your party will accompany me down to the third level while the slaves will flee to the woods."

"And what of our captive?" Ajantis asked Yeslick. Rill interjected before Yeslick could reply.

"Bring him with us, Bartic may yet redeem himself."

"Very well, let us be off." Jeral quickly picked up the quivers of enchanted arrows on the table. Smiling he handed one to Imoen. "These quivers have some lightly enchanted arrows and then some ice arrows. The latter are quite nasty, so careful handling them."

"You mean the once that are crackling and cold to the touch? I think I can manage."

Jeral bit back a sarcastic response and looked at the two potions on the table; he unstoppered each of them and sniffed them warily.

"This one is a potion of haste, I think. This one is probably a fireball in a flask. That is a very nasty potion and also very dangerous to carry around." Jeral carefully placed the potions in a sack on his back and turned to follow Yeslick. Imoen hastily grabbed the heavy coin purse on the table and followed the others out of the room.

Rill and Yeslick led the way, followed closely by Minsc and Ajantis. The prisoner walked in between them, his hands tightly bound behind his back. Imoen and Dynaheir followed and Jeral brought up the rear. They first stopped at the cells that housed the slaves. Imoen had the door opened in seconds. The slaves poured out of the cells praising Yeslick and Rill for their rescue. Rill looked through the mass of people until smiling he dropped to one knee. Jeral watched as a small girl with a mass of dark curls sprinted into his arms. Smiling he kissed her wetly on both cheeks and stood up. Choking back a team Rill turned to face his rescuers.

"This is my Lara. She has seen six summers and it is for her that I have fought to stay alive; for I shall see her free of this accursed place."

The greatly enlarged group moved slowly through the level. Fearing a counter attack from the guards below Yeslick quickly led the group to the armory. Once there the slaves worked to arm themselves with whatever they could find. Soon a couple dozen men and women were clad in leather armor and holding spears or swords. Rill found himself clothes, boots, a set of splint mail and a large battle axe. Smiling he picked up his daughter and held her in his left arm while the battle axe lay against his right shoulder. Jeral had to choke back a laugh as he saw Yeslick emerge from the armory. The malnourished dwarf had found a pair of pants and had them pulled up to the middle of his chest and tied off with the same twine from his prison rage. Unable to find any suitable armor he had grabbed a large shield, an open faced helm and a large wooden cudgel. Seeing the look on Jeral's face Yeslick was forced to shake his head and chuckle.

"Keep it to yourself laddie. This was the best I can do for now. What I wouldn't give for a proper hammer and set of dwarven chain mail."

"I thought dwarves preferred heavier armor master dwarf?" Dynaheir clearly overheard the dwarf's comment to Jeral.

"Aye my lady, normally we do. But I have seen over one hundred and thirty summers, and I am weak from my time as a prisoner. Chain mail is plenty for me now, easier on the shoulders and back. Besides, I can always duck behind these two long limbs in plate if I need to."

Imoen laughed out loud at the comment and jumped as Minsc boomed out a reply.

Minsc would be proud to protect the good dwarf from evil." Yeslick smiled at Minsc and led the way towards the kitchens. Once there they were accosted by the cook, a large sweaty woman covered in flour. Jeral handed her a handful of coins and directed her to the surface. The woman departed wailing that she was never going to fund such a good job again. Once the cook was gone Rill organized everyone. Wheels of cheese, loaves of bread, sides of beef, casks of water and ale, all were taken and carried by the group; for they would need to gain strength for the march out of the woods back to civilization. By the time the group left the kitchen it was picked clean.

Rill and Yeslick led the raggedy band to the upper level and then out of the mine, over the river and into the woods. Rill led everyone to a clearing a couple hundred yards into the woods and directed them to set up camp. "We can direct all the workers here when we see them. They will wait here for until mid day tomorrow before departing."

Jeral quickly ran back to where they had stashed their field gear and rummaged through his pack. Jogging back to the group he formally presented Yeslick with the enchanted war hammer the group had claimed of the mad cleric Bassilus in the woods southwest of Beregost.

"Master dwarf, I hope this hammer will be worthy of a member of the Silverhammer clan."

Yeslick dropped his cudgel and accepted the hammer with trembling hands.

"Lad, this is dwarven work. I will wield this proudly and thank you for the use of the weapon."

"Consider it a gift."

"I cannae take such a gift."

"Yes you can. None of us can wield it and it would be a shame to sell it. Just see that it is put to good use and that will be payment enough." Rill walked up next to Yeslick and patted the dwarf on the shoulder.

"Good Yeslick, now that we are free, let us return to the mines and free the worked that remain on the first level. Once Pilar shows you how to flood the mines I will lead him and the miners to their families and await your return."

Rill hefted his battleaxe and led the way back into the mines. As they reentered the complex they did not see a single patrol or sign of the enemy. The miners stared at the party cautiously until they saw Rill. Once they saw their leader armed and armored their heart filled with home and they ran to him and embraced him warmly. Men came from all corners of the mine, their tired bodies energized by the prospect of freedom. Rill motioned for quiet and then addressed the growing throng of miners.

"My brothers, thanks to Yeslick, Jeral and their brave companions you are finally free. The guards on this level are dead or have run for the lives. Your wives and children are in the woods waiting for you. Just give me five minutes to talk with Pilar and I will take you to them."

Pilar quickly showed Yeslick and Jeral the large metal plug that was used to seal the rover off from the mine. "Put the key in there, turn those two knobs, and run like mad for the river will come rushing in. Any questions?" Seeing there were not any questions Pilar patted Rill on the shoulder and slowly made his way to the entrance of the mines.

"Yeslick, Jeral, this is as far as I go. I must lead the miners to their families. We will post guards and await your return. I wish you the luck of the Gods for you will likely need it."

"Rill, if we do not return head due east. Walk to the rising sun for seven days more or less and you will reach the Great Coastal Way. Once there get directions to the Friendly Arm Inn, it is a well known establishment and any can direct you there. The proprietor is a good man and he will take care of you and help you and your people find new homes."

"And this will help you all get settled." Imoen tossed Rill the heavy coin purse she had pulled off the mage on the second level of the mines.

"There is enough in there to get everyone where they need to go with something left over for a fresh start." Rill seemed to be fighting back tears. He hugged each party member in turn, then Yeslick last of all, before turning and wordlessly heading for the mine entrance.

Yeslick cleared his throat and headed off down the corridor. He followed hallways making turn seemingly at random before he led the party to a small guard room at the end of a hallway. The room was comfortable and had a stone fireplace that took up most of one wall. Yeslick propped himself down in one of the wooden chairs and motioned the others to sit down. "Might as well get comfortable, we will be here for a while."

"Why is that?"

"The way we take will lead us right into Davaeorn's private chambers. The master of the mine is a dangerous foe. It we wait until late into the evening he may be asleep or at least without his guards. So we wait until then. Besides I am sure your mage could use a rest to restore some of her spells. So sit, eat, drink, and make a fire. We have many hours before us."

Yeslick took a long pull off a water skin and attacked a large turkey leg, tearing off hunks of meat with his yellowed cracked teeth.

"Yeslick, may I ask what happened to your people? How did you come to be imprisoned here?" Yeslick tore the last meat off his turkey leg and tossed the bone into the newly started fire. He chewed slowly and deliberately before responding.

"The Silverhammer clan was not a large clan by dwarven standards. They were not particularly warlike nor were they exceptionally skilled metal workers or miners. The one thing that united the clan was a thirst to explore. In this way we were more human than dwarf for most of the clans are content to stay in their caverns deep in the mountains, away from the eyes of the world. About 150 years ago my clan came down from the mountains in a great caravan. Twenty score dwarves and the same number of animals and wagons descended the mountains and entered the Cloakwood. The chieftain was the mighty Gurmea Ironfist.

Legend says he killed an ogre with his bare hands when he was but a child in his twenties. He earned his name in combat and lived up to it dozens of times over the years. He was a fierce warrior and a stern but just leader. His wife Mutria had visions and claimed she was guided here by the Gods. When the clan arrived after traveling for half a year they camped for the night on this very ground, thinking that sleeping on a small island made for an easily defensible position. The next morning they discovered apple size pieces of silver lying about as if they had sprouted from the very ground itself."

"Taking that as a sign from Moradin, Gurmea changed the clan's name to Silverhammer and established these caverns as both home and mine for the clan. Within ten years they had dug all you see here and merchant caravans laden with silver traveled from here to Baldur's Gate to the North and the city of coin to the South. The clan grew rich and powerful. Gurmea and his wife, corrupted by the wealth and power soon turned away from the true path. Not content with earthly riches the couple started to dabble in the dark arts looking for ways to extend their lives. As if two hundred years is not enough for a self respecting dwarf!"

Yeslick took a deep breath and lowered his voice again as he continued, "They commanded that the clan excavate a fourth level to the mine, a level that was off limits to all but the two of them. They purchased tomes of the foulest dark arts and components for many an unholy ritual. Many in the clan were concerned but no one dared challenge Gurmea for leadership. For many it was easy to ignore their descent into darkness. There was wealth for all; even our most lay about dwarves had more wealth than one of your human lords. So while the chieftain and his wife turned to darkness everyone else just counted their wealth. Any concerns forced away by the gleam of silver and the riches it bought."

"This went on for years; the Chieftain became more and more reclusive as strange sounds and smells emanated from the lowest level of the mines. Finally he went too far. Gurmea and his wife seized a few of the children for a dark ritual. They hoped to open a gate to allow a demon in; a demon who promised them wealth and power. Two score of our strongest warriors went to challenge Gurmea and put a stop to his dark reign. They were slaughtered, almost to the last. My father was one of two that managed to escape with their lives. Bleeding from dozens of wounds he found me and my mother. He handed us a pack filled with silver and told us to flee for our lives. He said he would rally the clan and that he would meet us in the woods."

Yeslick chocked back a sob as he loudly blew his nose on the sleeve of the tunic he had taken from the corpse of a guard in the hallway.

"Right, where was I? So I was just a lad who had seen maybe six summers at the time. Although I will add that I carried a blade larger than yours at that age good Jeral."

Chuckling at his own joke Yeslick continued with his dark tale.

"So me and ma sat in the woods and we watched and we listened. We could hear screaming and the sounds of battle. Men, women, young ones, they all scream differently. We could easily tell every time a child died, or a woman, or a man. Somehow knowing every time a child died made the listening even worse. Something or someone was tearing through the clan and killing everyone. Whatever it was did not stop at the dwarves. Animals died that day as well and their painful bleating just added to the din.

After a time the very air started to darken and cool even through it was a warm spring day. Suddenly there was a roar louder than any other, the river foamed and roared as it flooded into the mine. Somehow a wall collapsed in the mine and flooded it all. The entire clan perished save me and my mother."

"How did the mine flood? Dwarves are renowned throughout the land for their works of stone and their prowess as miners, so an accidental flooding seems unlikely."

"Right you are, my lady mage. I think my father and a few others deliberately tunneled into the river to flood the mines in a last ditch effort to stop whatever evil Gurmea and Mutria had summoned. That or Moradin himself ended the evil that day."

"So there we were the only two surviving members of the clan Silverhammer. My mother was too ashamed to return to the mountains so we made our way north to Baldur's Gate. There we lived quietly for many years. I found a temple and made a connection to the great smith and we lived quietly. My mother finally passed away about ten years ago.

I am ashamed to say that I was lost without her and did not handle it well. I lost sight of my faith and I squandered what little monies remained. Eventually desperate and destitute I became an itinerant blacksmith. I found my way to one Reiltar Anchev. He was a middling merchant at the time but had great ambition and avarice in his blood."

"To this day I am not sure why told him my tale. One night, after too much ale I opened up to him and told him the story of my clan and my misfortune. He offered to help return the mine to its splendor and return the name of my clan to greatness."

"And the snake double crossed you."

"Aye young Imoen. He did indeed. After draining the mine he looted it of my clan's riches and placed me in chains."

"Well that explains how the Iron Throne merchant consortium was able to come to prominence so quickly. The Order could never discover the source of their wealth or the force behind their sudden prominence."

Yeslick nodded grimly at the Helmite. "Indeed. They looted my ancestral home and placed me in chains some five years ago and I have dreamed of my vengeance ever since."

Yeslick stood up, stretched and then lay down in the corner.

"Wake me a few hours before dawn and then we may begin."

Day 55

After waking from a short rest Yeslick spent some time praying to Moradin and preparing for the upcoming challenge.

"Right, is everyone ready?" Yeslick stood and started running his hands over the smooth stone on the wall.

"What are you doing?"

"Well lass, before my father died he told me of the secret exit he helped build into Gurmea's sanctum. There is a door hidden in this wall that will take us to a lift device that will allow us to descend to the lowest level of the mines."

"Ooooh a secret door. How fun, let me help." Imoen quickly walked over to the wall and started staring at it and running her hands over the smooth surface looking for a catch or a knob or anything that would open the portal in question.

"No disrespect lass but this is dwarven construction. This is designed to be invisible to dwarves, so it will be impossible to find by a human." Imoen tossed her hair in frustration and continued to search while the others watched the two of them search every inch of the wall. After a quarter hour of searching Yeslick started swearing and banging his fists against the wall.

"It has to be here. This is exactly where my dad said to look."

"Yeslick, if I may ask. What exactly did your father say about the door?"

The dwarf glared at Jeral in frustration but calmed before he replied. "I remember it like it was only yesterday. He said it was in the westernmost guard post in the fireplace room."

"That makes no sense. I assume that this is the only possible westernmost guard room on this level?"

"Absolutely, of that there is no doubt."

"Ok, so if this room is the obvious location then why would your father also state the fireplace room? That seems unnecessarily repetitive to me."

Yeslick snapped his fingers and grinned from ear to ear.

"That's it me boy! You must have some dwarven blood in you. Of course, the door is in the fireplace."

Minsc and Ajantis hastily doused the fire with their water skins. Yeslick leapt into the fireplace kicking embers away with his boots. He pressed his hands against the soot covered walls and quickly found a slight indentation. He took the handle of his war hammer and gently depressed the spot on the wall. With a barely audible click a small section of wall cracked open.

Yeslick stooped his shoulders and entered the small passageway. The others had to stoop forward and Minsc was almost on his hands and knees. After 50 paces the small passageway ended in a ten by ten square room. The room was covered in cobweb but torches still burned in the wall sconces.

"Such powerful magic to still work after all this time." Dynaheir whispered reverently as she scanned the room.

"Not a lot of dwarven mages, but the ones we have are very powerful." Yeslick reached up to the nearest torch and twisted the sconce to the left. After a slight pause the floor started to slowly, silently descend. The group watched as the torches appeared to rise up out of sight as they descended deeper and deeper down a vertical shaft.

Yeslick dropped his voice to a whisper and leaned in close. "We will be in Davaeorn's sanctum in minutes. While I hope to catch him unawares we must make ready for anything that awaits."

Yeslick started muttering and a warm bluish glow surrounded the group. Jeral felt more confident and braver from whatever the dwarf had done. Dynaheir cast her spell of haste and the tingling Jeral was learning to depend upon returned once again.

"Almost there." Yeslick twisted the war hammer in his hand and shifted from foot to foot, clearly impatient to face his captor. As the small chamber neared the floor a small bell rang from below.

"So much for surprise." Jeral notched an ice arrow and readied for whatever was below. Minsc placed Boo in the small pouch on his belt and held Spider's Bane at the ready. Dynaheir waved her fingers and suddenly there were four dark skinned mages where only one stood before.

_That mirror image is one useful spell. Yet another I need to learn. _

Jeral shook off the negative thoughts and focused on the fight that was sure to come as his hand clenched and unclenched on the grip of his bow.

The long shaft finally was at an end as the first sliver of light was visible at the floor as they slowly dropped into a new chamber. They were descending into a room, and they were not alone.

The sounds of many swords leaving their scabbards chilled Jeral's spine.

Jeral let the bow and arrow fall from his grasp and he struggled to open the sack on his back. Reaching in he found what he wanted. With no time to identify the correct potion he knelt down and hurled both flasks through the widening gap in the wall towards the sounds of weapons. The sound of breaking glass was immediately followed by the explosion of a large fireball. Fingers of flame reached into the room through the slowly expanding gap in the floor and everyone jumped back from the flame.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" Imoen's cry of pain made the hair on Jeral's next stand up.

"You just ruined my boots you pile of goblin dung!"

_Leave it to Imoen to focus on fashion in a life and death situation._

Relieved that Imoen was uninjured Jeral quickly reclaimed his bow and notched a new arrow. As the lift settled to the ground a scene of total chaos lay before them.

The lift had placed them in the corner of an ornate bedroom. A large four poster bed commanded the center of the room like a throne. The bed was now a mass of burning wood and fabric for Jeral's potion had clearly impacted in the center of the bed. A handful of plate clad guards lay on the ground writhing in pain. Six more plate clad soldiers stood in a line on the far side of the room holding their long swords and shields at the ready. Behind them stood a pair of men who were obviously mages. One was no older than Jeral with the faintest wisps of a moustache and dark green mage robes. The other was old, short, overweight and balding; but the power that radiated out from him was palpable and terrifying. The party stood transfixed and watched six copies of the mage pop into being, each protected by a cylinder of crackling blue energy.

The mage smiled, revealing a weak chin and a set of perfectly white teeth.

"Ahhhh Yeslick, you are looking well. And I see you have met Jeral. How convenient, business and pleasure both stand before me. Guards, the dwarf and the women live for they will give me much amusement. Kill the rest."

Everything seemed to happen at once. Using their magically enhanced speed Minsc and Ajantis leapt forward and hammered into the wall of plate clad guards. These guards were clearly handpicked and well trained. Their ranks held as they absorbed the charge of the two fighters and quickly had the pair on the defensive as they struggled to handle their more numerous opponents.

Dynaheir cast a magic missile spell at Davaeorn but cried out in frustration as the missiles hit the blue energy and dissipated into nothingness. Yeslick bellowed in rage and charged straight for Davaeorn. The crazed dwarf weaved between the eight plate clad warriors and lunged at the wizard. In a blink Davaeorn was gone and Yeslick lay sprawled on the ground, unable to maintain his balance as his target moved out of the way.

The young wizard pulled out a wand from the sleeve of his robe and pointed it at Yeslick. Before he could utter a command word a pair of arrows struck home. The first arrow buried in his stomach while the second struck him over his heart. Before he could fall both arrows encased large portions of his torso in ice. As the lifeless body hit the ground his chest shattered into dozens of pieces of multi colored ice.

"Imoen, stay with Dynaheir." Jeral watched as Yeslick took off down the hall calling out Davaeorn's name. Jeral started to take off after the dwarf when out of the corner of his eye he saw Ajantis take a hard blow. One of the guards had managed to get inside the Helmite's parry and strike a blow to his sword arm. While his blade could not pierce the Ankheg plate the force of the blow caused Ajantis to drop his sword. Now weaponless the paladin assumed a defensive crouch behind his shield as a pair of guards hacked away at him.

Jeral drew a bead on the closest guard and loosed an ice arrow. It struck home at the base of his neck, striking the gap between his back plate and helm. The arrow severed his spine and he dropped to the floor, his head snapping off his frozen neck and rolling across the room leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

The second guard turned to face the new threat. Seeing his chance Ajantis drew his dagger and forced it through the shoulder joint on the guard's armor. As he pulled out the blade a steady stream of blood pulsed forth. The guard attempted to turn but fell to the ground before he could face Ajantis again. Ajantis nodded his thanks to Jeral and quickly reclaimed his long sword. With only three guards left to oppose them Jeral knew Minsc and Ajantis no longer needed his assistance so he raced off after Yeslick.

Yeslick was not hard to find, Jeral only had to follow the steady stream of dwarven profanity that echoed down the halls. He rounded a corner and saw the mage standing atop a raised platform in a small room. The room looked to be a makeshift temple devoted to demon worship. The enraged dwarf was halfway up the dais and was attacking the mage with a looping horizontal swing of his war hammer. Davaeorn quickly raised his hands and a jet of silver lashed into Yeslick. The dwarf roared in frustration and then froze in place as the spell took effect. Jeral took a quick snap shot at the mage. The arrow bored a hole in the blue cylinder surrounding the mage but the energy shield deflected the shot and it went wide of the mark.

"So very close Jeral. Too bad you missed for it is unlikely you will get another chance." Davaeorn snapped his fingers and six copies of the mage reappeared.

"Such a handy little spell that mirror image, don't you think?" Jeral fired off another ice arrow and one of the images disappeared.

"How pathetic, you still think you can win. You lack the good grace to know when you are beaten." Davaeorn muttered under his breath and jets of flame shot out from his extended fingers. Jeral threw himself into a forward roll to duck under the flames. He misjudged the distance and slammed into the wall as he came out of his roll. The force of the blow staggered him and he landed heavily on his backside.

Davaeorn started to laugh but quickly stopped as three more of his duplicates were blasted out of existance from a pair of magic missiles and an arrow of ice. Jeral looked over his shoulder to see Minsc and Ajantis charging down the hall with Dynaheir and Imoen close behind. Davaeorn uttered a curse and then quickly chanted an incantation. When he finished the spell a dozen halberd wielding gnolls materialized in front of him and changed towards Ajantis and Minsc.

"There, that should give me more than enough time to dispose of you. Let us see which one of us is the better archer Jeral. Of course I do not need anything as pedestrian as a bow."

Davaeorn clapped his hands together and a flaming bolt of energy shot out and struck Jeral in the left shoulder. Jeral cried out in pain and dropped his long bow. Drawing his short sword he unsteadily got to his feet. Gritting his teeth against the pain he charged the mage.

"Such spirit, such persistence. Too bad they demand your death. Imprisoning you and watching you break would be delicious. Such a shame. Good bye Jeral."

Davaeorn started casting a complex spell, Jeral did not recognize the words but he knew that if Davaeorn cast the spell then he would die. Jeral lashed out with his short sword and another duplicate of the mage winked out of existence. Jeral watched as a ball of intense darkness started to build in Davaeorn's hands as he gathered energy for his incantation. Davaeorn started to move his hands forward to release the spell's power when his entire body was thrown violently to the side. Yeslick had managed to free himself and complete his attack on the mage. The enchanted hammer easily defeated the magical protections surrounding Davaeorn and struck him solidly in the left side.

The ball of energy faded away as Davaeorn fell onto his right side and slid down the steps, landing in a heap on the floor. Stunned and injured he struggled to regain his feet. Yeslick bounded after him and Jeral watched transfixed as the hammer came down again and again on the master of the mines until there was nothing more than a puddle of blood and brains on the floor where a head was seconds before. The dwarf dropped the bloody weapon and fell to the floor, overcome with emotion. Jeral turned to see if the others needed assistance and watched as Minsc gleefully decapitated the one remaining gnoll with a massive swing of his great blade. He and Ajantis were covered in blood but neither looked seriously injured. A quick glimpse at Dynaheir and Imoen showed that they both appeared uninjured.

Jeral dropped his sword to the ground and fumbled through his gear searching for a healing potion. Locating one he quickly unstoppered it and drained the contents in one long gulp. A sense of calm overcame him as the potion started to knit his injured shoulder back together. After a few minutes the shoulder was functional again. It would need time, or another potion, to fully heal but Jeral knew he was out of danger.

Jeral walked over and looked down at the bloody corpse that was Davaeorn. Leaving Yeslick to his grief Jeral methodically searched the body. He took the mage robes, bracers, and a handful of scrolls and tossed them in his pack for later identification. He also found a large iron key that clearly was the key to the river plug.

"Imoen, please take a quick circuit through here and see if there is anything of value we can take with us. We need to get out of here before the guards from upstairs come down to take a look." Imoen grabbed Ajantis by the hand and headed off in search of treasure.

Jeral patted Yeslick on the shoulder. "We found the key. We should flood this place and be on our way."

"I am staying here."

"What are you talking about Yeslick?"

"You cannot understand, you are not a dwarf. This is my home. I am the last of my clan. I have no one. If I die here at least I will be closer to my family in the afterlife."

"Yeslick, it is true that I am not a dwarf but I do understand loss. I have lost my father, I have lost my home, and I have lost a woman I think I love. Yet you will not see me blubbering like a love sick elf at the summer solstice."

The last comment caused Yeslick to jump to his feet and heft his war hammer. "Take it back ye foolish child afore I break your legs!"

"Take what back? Listen to yourself. You are the last of the clan Silverhammer. You must avenge your clan. You must avenge your parents. Your vengeance is not complete until Reiltar is dead and the Iron Throne is destroyed. Then, and only then, will I consider your oath fulfilled. Until that time you do not have my permission to die!"

Yeslick grinned and slapped Jeral on the shoulder affectionately.

"Fine speech, exactly what I needed. There be dwarven blood in you, no doubt about that. Aye, let us go and flush the evil out of this place."

The journey back to the upper level went quickly. On the way back up Jeral watched as Imoen sorted through the trinkets she had collected. By his quick count it looked like close to a dozen potions, some very fine jewelry and a few thousand gold and platinum coins. The floor finally stopped rising and the party found themselves back in the room with the enchanted torches where they started. A short walk brought them back to the large slab of metal that sealed off the mine from the river. Yeslick ran his hands over the rough metal and snorted. "What shoddy construction, I am amazed this has not already failed under the pressure from the river. Very well Jeral, do you have the key?"

"I do. However I suggest we all head to the mine entrance and then I can go back in and use the key to flood the mines. No need to place everyone at risk."

"Sounds like a good plan save one thing laddie. This be my family home, if anyone is going to flood it, I will."

"Can you swim? Are you a fast runner? When the river comes in there will be no second chances. One slip, one false step, and you drown and the last of the clan Silverhammer fades into memory."

"Dwarves hate water and cannot swim at all. You look like a bookish sort Jeral so you already know that. And you surely can run faster than me. But that is beside the point. This was my home. It was defiled due to my trusting the wrong man. I will make it right."

The dwarf crossed his arms across his chest and glared up at Jeral. It was clear that Yeslick was unyielding on the issue. Fortunately before the discussion elevated to the level of an argument Ajantis stepped to the fore.

"I believe that I can find a satisfactory resolution to this impasse. If everyone would exit the mine we can discuss it outside."

Yeslick looked warily at the paladin. "If this be a trick you will have made an enemy of this dwarf, so think carefully Helmite."

"On my honor as a servant of Helm and a squire in the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart I swear I speak truth."

"Very well. Lead and I will follow squire." The paladin led the group back to the mine entrance. Once outside he sat down in the grass and started taking off his boots.

"You are right Yeslick it is only proper that you are the one to flood the mines. However, Jeral is also right. You are too slow and too poor a swimmer to survive what will happen after you open the river plug." Ajantis tossed his boots at the feet of the last surviving member of clan Silverhammer and smiled.

"These boots are something special. They make the wearer faster than the fleetest steed. If you wear them you may well survive." Yeslick dropped his axe, helm and shield to the ground and quickly slid his feet into the boots. The boots shrunk to accommodate his smaller feet and he quickly sprinted to the tree line and back.

"By my beard, but these make one very fast. Ajantis, I thank you for lending me these boots. I will return them shortly. Jeral the key if you please."

Jeral handed over the key into the dwarf's outstretched palm and the group watched as Yeslick slowly, almost reverently, entered the mine for one final time. After a quarter of an hour a dull roar started to echo from the mine. It quickly got louder and louder until the companions had to cover their ears from the sound of the roaring waters racing through the mine. The sound of footsteps splashing through water indicated that Yeslick was fast approaching. Soaking wet, he barreled around the corner and raced out of the mine and into the early morning sun. Once he reached the grass he dropped to his knees, lowered his head and sobbed uncontrollably.

Imoen finally broke the silence. Elbowing her brother she pointed to the woods. "We have a long trek ahead of us. Let's get Rill and all of the former slaves organized and ready to move. Once we get to the Friendly Arm Inn we can figure out our next steps."

Jeral snorted in reply as he adjusted the grip on his long bow.

"The next steps are clear. We rest, we train, and we restock. Then we go to Baldur's Gate, find the leader of the Iron Throne and kill him. Him and anyone who gets in our way. Couldn't be easier. The Iron Throne killed Gorion and tried to kill us. Yeslick is not the only one out for blood."


	24. Chapter 24: Out of the Woods

Chapter 24 – Are we there yet? – Day 68

"Two weeks! I can't believe it's been two weeks! Are we ever going to get there? We are moving so slooooooooooow. Why do they all have to be so slooooooooooow?" Imoen stamped her feet in frustration and dragged her short bow along the ground as she pouted her way through the woods. "And why do we have to be behind everyone? It is so not fair!"

Jeral could only shake his head tiredly and smile. Imoen was never patient in the best of times, and the past two weeks were anything but the best of times. Jeral could have comfortably made the trek back to the Friendly Arm Inn within seven or eight days. However leading a large group of refugees from the Claokwood Mines, many of them malnourished women and children caused the group to move only as fast as the slowest member. A dozen of the weakest were carried on stretchers and makeshift litters, slowing the group even further.

Each morning Ajantis and Rill would lead a party of two dozen of the strongest men out first. Their role was to scout ahead and ensure the safety of the main column following behind. They were looking for the easiest way through the woods as well as ensuring that there were no threats to the main body. Other than the occasional small group of gibberlings, or the odd giant spider, they did not encounter any serious opposition. As the scouts moved through the woods they ensured that they left a clear path for the main party to follow. Each day in the early afternoon they would stop at the first suitable location for the campsite and start to prepare it for the arrival of everyone else.

The majority of the freed miners and their families traveled in a large loosely organized group following slowly along a few hours behind the scouts. Yeslick and Dynaheir traveled in the middle of the largest cluster of women and children. The dwarven cleric tended to the wounded and Dynaheir served as his able assistant. Her skills in alchemy lended themselves well to the brewing of medicinal teas and the making of healing salves under Yeslick's expert tutelage. The pair worked tirelessly to ensure that no one else would die. While on the march during the day they tended to the sick and injured as best they could. At night Yeslick prayed to Moradin for every healing gift he could get, for he needed every one of them to keep the weakest alive.

Jeral and Imoen were responsible for the rear guard of the column. Accompanied by a dozen of the able bodied men and women from the mines they slowly trailed well behind the main column. They were there to ensure that no one fell out from the column and that no one threatened the column from behind. Their place at the tail on the column ensured them of a frustratingly slow trek following a muddy worn track beaten down by the hundreds who preceeded them through the forest. Their place at the end of the line was a source of constant irritation to Imoen, who wanted to be in the front with Ajantis or deep in the woods with Minsc patrolling the flanks of the column.

Every day looked very much like the preceding one. Ajantis and the scouts would depart at first light. The main column would take a few hours to wake up, eat a meager breakfast and grudgingly resume the march. The read guard would ensure nothing and no one of value was left behind at the camp site and then slowly follow behind the main column. While the odds of pursuit were slim, Jeral and Imoen still took no chances and kept a wary eye on the surrounding woods to ensure that they would not be caught unawares.

Lunch was a normally a hunk of stale bread, or moldy cheese, eaten on the march. In early afternoon the caravan would stop for the evening, many of the weaker men, women, and children exhausted from the short day and slow walk. Evening was the bright spot in the day for everyone. For the weak and tired it promised a respite from walking. For the children it promised an evening of games and storytelling from select elders and adults. Ajantis had taken it upon itself to provide martial training to any who expressed an interest. Each evening Ajantis led two score men and women in weapons drills and provided rudimentary training in hand to hand combat. All feared an encounter with their former masters so they took to the lessons eagerly, working hard to develop skills that would allow them to survive in combat and to protect their families.

The highlight of the evening was dinner. Food was the primary concern for everyone. After a week on the march the substantial food stores taken from the larder in the mines ran out. Water was plentiful from the numerous creeks and streams that criss crossed the forest so they would not die of thirst. For a time mass starvation seemed a likely outcome. Too many lacked the strength to miss meals for more than a day or two without falling down dead. In their weakened state food simply equaled one more day of life for many as they struggled to carry on. The morning the food ran out Rill, Yeslick, Jeral and the other members of the party gathered around the cook fire to discuss the issue.

Rill looked grim as he quietly addressed the others. "I have most dire news. The food stores are all but exhausted. We lack food enough for all for the noon meal. If we cannot feed the people many will quickly die. They lack the strength to carry on."

Everyone quietly digested the news. Jeral clenched and unclenched his hands in frustration. Despite all of Jeral's considerable knowledge, despite everything Gorion had ensured he learned, he was at a loss for what to do. The injustice of it all ate at him. They had worked so hard to free everyone from the mines, they could not fail now. They would not fail!

Clapping his hands together Minsc broke the tense silence.

"Things are not as dire as you all fear. Good Rill please fill the cook pot with water and make a fire. I can feed this group, however we will need to remain here for another day. Jeral, may I borrow your bow? I promise to return it."

Minsc laid his massive sword gently on the ground, lay his horned helm down next to it, and started removing his suit of full plate mail.

"Rill I also require eight strong men to assist me."

"And you shall have them. What do you plan to do large one?"

Minsc smiled as he removed the last piece of his armor. Free from its tremendous weight he stretched out his arms and rolled his neck from side to side. He motioned to the woods as he slowly turned in a circle and inhaled slowly.

"These woods are teeming with life all around us. I am going to find us food. Nature can easily feed us, all of us, until we reach our destination. We will only take enough to survive and the forest will not take issue with that in the least."

Minsc took Jeral's bow with a nod and waited patiently for Rill to return with the requested men. Once then men arrived Minsc said "follow me" and silently ran into the woods. Free of his heavy armor and weapon he moved as lightly as a woodland elf. Jeral laughed at the image of Minsc in elven finery with pointy ears. He was taller than any elf and near as broad as any three combined.

Before the sun peaked in the mid day sky Minsc returned. Smiling from ear to ear he entered the clearing. After a minute the eight men accompanying Minsc staggered into view. Each was covered in blood and burdened under the weight of the dead animals they carried. By Jeral's initial count the men carried seven large deer, a like number of large birds and one gigantic snake.

Minsc walked up to Rill and smiled as he clapped the man on the shoulders.

"We now have meat for a few days. Start cooking the deer and the birds. Leave the snake for the stew pot."

"My good ranger, I am speechless, you may have just saved us all yet again. But how can we make a stew with just a snake and water from the stream?"

"Ahhhhhh there is yet more that the forest can provide beyond meat. Please send me a few dozen of the older children for they can ably assist me in finding everything else we need."

Yet again Minsc happily jogged into the woods, this time with a gaggle of children training in his considerable wake. After less than an hour the children returned with dirty hands and smiling faces. They walked up to the makeshift field kitchen and dropped their discoveries into piles on the ground.

Minsc pointed from one pile to the next as he spoke. "Nature will feed all the hungry children. Here we have wild carrots, murin root, wild blackberries, sweet potatoes, and sweet onions. These children know how to find these food stuffs now so they can forage from the march in the future."

A handful of women descended on the food and quickly sliced and added the vegetables to the stew pot while they instructed the children to walk around handing out the berries. The cooking meats and the bubbling stew filled the camp with mouth watering aromas as everyone readied for the noon meal. Each subsequent day Minsc led out the hunting party and always returned with more than enough food for all. The children he trained as foragers learned their work well and kept the large group fortified with adequate vegetables and wild berries for the duration of the trek.

Finally after more than two weeks in the woods, and a few epic meltdowns from Imoen, the raggedy column emerged onto the great Coastal Way. After two weeks in the woods people wept upon reaching the rough cobblestone road. Freed from years in slavery and weeks in the woods the road symbolized hope for the future and safety. The few travelers on the road looked askance at the raggedy column as it slowly headed south to the Friendly Arm Inn. Energized by the prospects of safety the column made good time on the road and reached the Inn just as the daylight was starting to yield to the night time sky.

As Ajantis lead the way up to the gates of the Inn he was surprised to see Bentley standing at the gates accompanied by his wife Gellana and a dozen of the Inn's guards. Bentley embraced the paladin warmly, a broad smile covering his cherubic face.

"By the Gods, the stories are true. You did free the slaves in the mines and lead them to safety."

"What stories are those Lord Mirrorshade?"

Bentley snorted in amusement.

"You folks in the order are always so polite Ajantis. But calling me a Lord is like seeing a Halfling with a beard. It just does not fit. Call me Bentley or innkeeper if you wish to be formal."

"Very well Lord, I mean Innkeeper Mirrorshade. What stories have you heard?"

Smiling Bentley gazed up at the Paladin. "For weeks we have heard rumors that a party was deep in the Cloakwood, and about a fortnight ago a few guests left the Inn far earlier than planned. I overheard them saying they had to get to Baldur's Gate and inform their masters of your attack on the mines."

"How could they possibly have known about that?"

"Well that is easy lad, magic. One of them was clearly a mage, although he made a feeble attempt to hide that fact from me and the missus, like someone can hide the arts from us in our home. Since he departed we heard nothing until today. All day today I have had travelers ride through from the North telling tales of the column of refugees coming this way. Seemed natural enough to me what the truth was so we readied ourselves for your arrival."

Jeral and Imoen pushed their way through the mass of people and greeted Bentley and his wife warmly.

"As I was saying, we have made the Inn ready for an influx of guests. We should be able to accommodate all of you. I have taken the liberty of reserving you my finest three rooms. The injured will be very comfortable and well cared for in the temple tended by Gellana and her acolytes. The families, women and children may stay in the Inn while the single men may bed down in the stables. We cleaned space in the hay loft so they will be very comfortable there."

"Bentley, we are overwhelmed by your generosity."

"Ahhhh Jeral, this is the slow season, so we are happy to help."

Then he winked and slapped Jeral's thigh.

"Besides, since you took down the mines I suspect you made a fair piece o coin, so if you want to toss any of it my way I would not refuse."

Gellana cleared her throat and clapped her hands loudly.

"That is enough Bentley stop prattling away like a fisherman's wife. Look at all these poor people, they must be cold, hungry and tired. You need to stop talking so we can care for these poor people. Squire Ajantis, please direct everyone into the courtyard. We have food for all, and then we can get everyone organized for the night. Quickly now, it is getting dark."

Jeral and Imoen watched as the small Gnome cleric started ordering around Ajantis and everyone else in sight in a manner that brooked no argument.

Bentley sighed and started walking into the Inn next to Imoen and Jeral.

"Well Gellana has things well in hand out here. Come inside you two. I will get you a bite to eat and you can tell me all about your journey before she puts us to work." 

Imoen and Jeral tore into their meals with enthusiasm. Bentley sat quietly until they were finished and then poured them glasses of wine.

"This is one of my best bottles, a lovely Calamshite red, seems appropriate for the occasion. After all this is call for celebration."

Imoen gulped her glass down greedily while Jeral took a small sip and sighed in satisfaction.

"My dear Bentley, you have outdone yourself once again. This is exceptional."

Before Bentley could reply Minsc, Dynaheir, and Ajantis strode across the room and joined their companions at the table. Bentley excused himself to get food and drink for the new arrivals.

"Heya Ajantis, where is Yeslick?"

"He is tending to the wounded in the temple with Lady Gellana. Imoen, are you drunk?"

"Not yet, but give me some time. I just started." Imoen flashed Ajantis her widest grin as she drained a second glass of Bentley's fine red wine.

Day 69

The following morning Jeral sat down for an early breakfast in the common room. He felt like a new man. He was amazed how much better he felt after a good meal, a long hot bath, and a night in a soft bed. Topping off the luxury he was in his only pair of clean clothes so he felt on top of the world. He scratched at his newly shaved chin as he waited for his meal to arrive.

"So what is next for you and you friends laddie? Rest up, get some new equipment and head North to Baldur's Gate."

"That sums it up pretty well Bentley. Is everyone settled in ok?"

"Yup, nice quiet night. Course the fact that I doubled the watch and had men patrolling inside the Inn and others posted in the stables may have helped."

"You doubled the watch? Why?"

"Lad, you just brought hundreds of desperate strangers inside my walls. A little precaution is just wise. Besides the potential threats are outside the walls as well. There is always the chance that the Iron Throne would attempt to come here and destroy the evidence of the mines by killing everyone here."

"I had not even thought of that. I am sorry that we put you and your wife in danger but we had nowhere else to take these poor people."

"Thing nothing of it Jeral. Gellana has not been this happy in years! She has a temple full of people to aid and plenty of new people to order about. It is like we are back in our younger adventuring days."

Bentley sipped his coffee as Jeral tucked into the plate of eggs and bacon that was just placed before him.

"Bentley, any idea where these poor people can go? They need a new home. Many are from distant villages that were razed to the ground when they were captured."

I have been thinking about that. Give me a few days and I can probably come up with some solutions. I do plan to hire a couple dozen of the strongest men to serve in my guard force. And if there are any young pretty women they can work in the Inn proper if they wish."

"You said business is slow, so why would you hire that many additional people?"

Bentley signed heavily and took a deep drink of coffee.

"These are dangerous times Jeral as you very well know. This iron crisis and the talk of war between Baldur's Gate and Amn could make things very threatening. I need to ensure I can protect this place from any and all dangers. The threat of war should put more traffic on this road so I may get busy again very soon, thus the need for more women to assist in running the Inn."

Imoen lurched into a chair and lowered her head onto the table.

"Someone please kill me. I am soooooooooooo hung over."

"Actually my dear, I suspect you are still drunk."

Chuckling to himself Bentley popped up from his chair and headed to the kitchen.

"Wow, sis. You look horrible and you smell like a dwarven tavern. What did you do last night?"

"Ugnh. A lot of it is hazy, I only remember fragments."

Jeral rubbed his hands together and leaned forward to listen to his sister's tale.

"This is getting good. So tell me about the fragments."

"At some point during the night, after you went off to bed I apparently challenged Minsc to a drinking contest."

"Wonderful, brilliant idea there. What can go wrong with that? Minsc was raised by a culture that can drink more than anyone and he is nearly three times your weight."

Imoen shakily lifted her head from the table and grinned proudly at Jeral through a mass of tangled hair.

"I won."

"WHAT?"

"Yup, I out drank Minsc. In fact I think even Boo was drunk. It was quite the evening. He fell out of his chair and collapsed on the floor."

"I am officially impressed and a bit horrified if I am completely honest. So what happened next?"

"Well the next thing I remember I was heading upstairs looking for Ajantis."

"Oh really? Looking to get a little paladin luvvin were we?"

"Apparently all the drinking put me in the mood."

"This gets better and better. So what happened next?"

"Well I made it up to his room and knocked on the door."

"Wow, this is sounding just like one of your trashy novels."

"Just wait, it gets better."

Jeral rubbed his hands together expectantly and leaned forward on his elbows, cupping his chin with his hands as Imoen continued her tale.

"So there I was banging away on his door. After a few moments he opens the door. He is standing there shirtless, clad only in a pair of loose cotton breeches and gripping that long sword of his. Once he saw it was me he laid the sword against the wall and just looked at me with a frown on his face."

"Well I am sure he disapproves of excessive drinking and of forward young women."

Imoen shook her head and smiled. "I know he is a bit of a pill but by the Gods Jeral. He looked so good without his shirt on. I was all ready to throw myself at him…"

"And?"

Imoen blushed and shook her head weakly.

"Come on Imoen, finish the story."

"I threw up in front of Ajantis."

"Actually, my good Imoen, you threw up on Ajantis."

Ajantis pulled out a chair and smoothly slid into his seat next to Imoen.

"And quite a lot actually."

Imoen leaned forward and slowly banged her head on the table muttering "someone kill me now."

Jeral smiled from ear to ear as he reveled in his sister's embarrassment and greeted the Helmite.

"Good morning to you Squire Ajantis. I trust you slept well."

Ajantis smiled and chuckled to himself.

"Well after taking a long bath and paying to have my room thoroughly cleaned in the middle of the night I did sleep very well. Bentley has some fine beds in this establishment."

Speaking from under a tangled mass of hair Imoen addressed the paladin. "Ajantis, I am so sorry that I threw up on you."

Ajantis patted the top of her head gently. "Do not concern yourself with it lady Imoen. I view it as just another trial in my service to the Order."

Imoen swatted the paladin's hand away angrily and unsteadily rose to her feet.

"So nice to know that I am nothing but a trial! How difficult it must be for you to bear so heavy a burden."

With an angry toss of her head she headed back upstairs.

"Jeral, what did I do to upset the lady so?"

"Ajantis, you clearly do not know women my friend."

"Of course not Jeral. My training with the order leaves me little time and I am not a suitable marital match for any woman of breeding until I become a knight with the Order."

Jeral chucked at the Paladin's obvious discomfort.

"Ajantis rest easy, I am quite sure that Imoen does not want to marry you. In fact I suspect she is not entirely sure what she wants to do with you. But I know she likes you and she was embarrassed that she threw up in front of you…"

"On me." 

"Right she threw up on you. She probably had this vision of going upstairs last night for a breathtaking kiss like in one of her books and instead it turned into a mess."

"Well I must apologize to the lady for any affront I have caused."

"Good plan, just wait until she cleans up and gets some rest. She will appreciate it more when she is not a boozy hung over mess. Maybe apologize at dinner."

Day 70

"Very well Jeral. We will meet back here within a fortnight and then head onwards to Baldur's Gate. Are you sure you do not wish to join us?"

"No Dynaheir. I will stay here and try and learn what I can of Baldur's Gate from Bentley and any travelers who come through the Inn. Sell what we cannot use. And ensure everyone is well equipped for I fear the greatest dangers still lie ahead. Yeslick can get armor in Beregost while Imoen can train with you while away."

With a curt smile the mage turned on her heel and marched out of the tavern. Jeral watched from the door as the remaining party members saddled up and rode out of the gates heading south towards Beregost.

"Right, well that as they say is that." Bentley moved beside Jeral and reached up to pat him on the back.

"So lad, what do you plan to do for a fortnight?"

"Same as last time I suppose. Work on my archery, see if I can beat Bredak sparring, try and learn a few spells and learn whatever I can about Baldur's Gate and the Iron Throne."

"I will arrange for Bredak and a few of our other best swordsmen to meet you in the stables each day after the noon meal."

"Thank you Bentley, you are too kind."

"And if you wish I can likely aid in your spell casting studies after the evening meal. We should have adequate space in the wine cellar."

"Thank you again my good Bentley I am in your debt for I can use all the assistance I can get."

"That is true Jeral; Dynaheir says that you are rubbish with even the most basic spells."

"Dynaheir, ever the one to soften the truth. Sadly she is right; I struggle to cast even the most basic of spells."

"Do not worry about it lad, give me a few weeks and we will make a mage of you after all. Besides your enchanted chain armor will not allow you to cast spells anyway so little is lost."

Day 74

"One more time lad, flex your hands outwards and say duplicatum."

Jeral shook his head in frustration, "This is my fourth night in a row and I cannot even get this basic spell."

Bentley smiled contentedly as he looked up at Jeral. "Do you remember the first time you held a sword?"

"Of course I do."

"Were you a master swordsman from the beginning?"

"Of course not, I had to train and study and spar all the time. As you well know I spar every day I can to continue to develop my skills."

"So why is this any different?"

Realizing he was led to the revelation on his own Jeral could only chuckle as he eyed the grinning gnomish illusionist. "Viconia was right; you gnomes are a sneaky folk."

"And you humans are slow of wit and long of limb."

"Ok one more try and then we drink some more of your good red wine."

"Very well Jeral, proceed."

Day 77

"Excellent Jeral, that is three images you called into being this time. Very well done."

Jeral beamed at the innkeeper as he looked at three mirror images of himself.

"So remember Jeral, if you ever are threatened while out of your armor this can aid in your defense. Many of the attacks will have to go against the images, sparing you from the damage. All but the most disciplined of minds will be taken in by this spell."

"Too bad I cannot cast spells while wearing armor."

"Ahhhh I understand your frustration Jeral. Perhaps someday you will find some elven or melodic chain mail for both types of armor allow you to cast spells while armored. In such a case you have a real chance to be quite a powerful fellow."

"I fear I shall never be powerful, at least not powerful enough. I will never be a great warrior, or a great mage, a master thief or a cleric channeling a God's power."

"I apologize for my question in advance but your father was a great mage was he not?"

"One of the greatest."

"And yet he was cut down by your great armored warrior foe while you still live."

"Is there a point to making me relive a painful memory?"

"My point young one is that you have more advantages that you realize. You are stonger than all but the strongest men. You fight better than all but the very best, you are quicker than most, smarter than most and a natural leader. So use your head. Out think those you cannot out fight, out quick those stronger than you, and very few will have any chance against you. And never forget that powerful friends and allies may make all the difference."

"So what happens when I meet someone stronger, faster and smarter than me and with no friends or allies in sight?"

"Well my boy, then you will likely die." Bentley's matter of fact words shook Jeral to the core and his three mirror images winked from existence.

Bentley smiled and clapped his hands. Well let's go and get that drink."

Without looking back Bentley pulled a wine bottle from one of the racks and headed upstairs into the common room of the Inn.

Day 79

Jeral watched as the column slowly started moving out the gate of the Inn. The column of former freed slaves from the mines bore little resemblance to the pathetic mass of humanity that emerged from the woods less than two weeks earlier. A week and a half of good food, warm beds and new clothes had done wonders for everyone. Most of the adults were still thin but no longer looked malnourished. They were well groomed and dressed in clean serviceable clothes. They now resembled prosperous farmers more than freed slaves.

The group now had a few dozen horses and small carts that carried the children and those unable to walk due to injuries or advanced age. Other carts were heavily laden with seeds, farm implements and other tools needed for a new life. Rill walked up to where Bentley and Jeral stood watching the group depart.

"I do not know where to begin my friends. My people and I owe you more than you can ever possibly know. Jeral, you and your friends rescued us from a certain death and brought us to safety. Good Bentley, you and your wife have opened your Inn to us treated our wounds, fed us, clothed us, and helped us find a new home."

"The Mayor of Nashkel has a large plot of land awaiting your arrival. It is prime farming land with adequate water. With hard work you should be able to get a few crops in before the winter frost."

"I thank you Bentley. How did you manage to arrange that?"

"Nashkiel lost many men in the community from the attacks on their mines. He is eager to replenish the town's population. And thanks to Jeral and his companions he was paid handsomely for the land. So it now belongs to you and your people."

Rill fought back tears as embraced Jeral and then Bentley in fierce hugs.

"My people and I are eternally in your debt. If we can ever be of assistance please do not hesitate to ask." Turning on his heel Rill quickly rejoined the tale of the column, mounted his horse, and rejoined his people as they started a new life.

After watching the remainder of the column depart Jeral looked down at Bentley. "Uh Bentley, what gold paid for the land, the horses and all their equipment?"

Smiling Bentley chuckled and looked up at the bard. "Well thank Imoen and Dynaheir for that."

Jeral's confused look prompted the gnome to keep talking.

"Well Imoen and Dynaheir were going through your loot from the mines and decided to give me a couple of items that more than covered all the expenses.

"Keep going."

"Well the first was the robe worn by the master of the mines. It is a robe of the darkest power."

"Why would you possibly want that?"

"By studying evil magic I can better learn how to defeat it. Besides if you had sold it some other evil mage would put it to use, this way its powers will not be used for evil purposes."

"Fair enough. You mentioned a second item."

"Next time you see my wife ask to see the present I got her." 

Day 81

"Bredak, I gotta tell you, I think this is my day."

The captain of the guard at the Friendly Arm Inn grinned and nodded his head in Jeral's direction.

"Boy, you have gotten much better over the past two weeks; and you are much better than you were when first we met but you are not there yet."

Jeral appraised his opponent just as he had every day before they started to fight. Breadak was slightly taller than Jeral and heavily muscled. His middle aged face was lined with scars of previous battles and his neatly trimmed beard showed hints of grey throughout. Clad in a set of old, but clearly well made, splint mail he carried a circular shield strapped to his left forearm and held a heavily padded bastard sword loosely in his right hand. An open faced helm sat a top a mane of long hair that hung down to his shoulders.

Smiling Jeral twirled his equally padded short sword at his side as he smiled at the older man.

"I just have a hunch that this is my day."

"Yes yes, you have said that. Care to make a wager?"

"I do not want to take your money old man."

A few of the guards watching the men chuckled and whisted at Jeral's cheek. They knew that if they mouthed off to Bredak like that they would lose a few teeth.

"Humor me. Say 50 gold to the winner?"

Jeral sucked in his teeth at Bredak's comment. 50 gold was more than the captain of the guard would earn in a year and it was more than most of the guards would earn in five years. Bredak was playing for high stakes.

"Are you sure Bredak? That is a lot of coin."

"It will be fine Jeral, I am sure you can afford it."

A couple of Bredak's men hooted and clapped in amusement, delighted to see their captain mocking someone other than one of them.

Bredak rolled his shoulders, adjusted his shield and assumed the ready position facing Jeral.

Jeral raised his sword in salute and made ready to face his opponent.

Smiling Bredak moved forward swinging his sword lazily from side to side.

Jeral watched and waited until he saw a gap and lunged forward. Bredak chopped across with his shield and pushed Jeral's blade to his left. Quicker than Jeral thought possible Bredak slashed downwards with a diagonal slash. Jeral dove to the ground at Bredak's feet and tucked into a forward roll. As he completed the roll and returned to his feet he had an instant to raise his buckler to block a follow on attack from Bredak. Jeral backpedaled rapidly as he fended off strike after strike from the larger man.

Regaining his composure Jeral planted his right heel and quickly thrust his entire body forward. Catching Bredak unawares Jeral stabbed Bredak in the chest with his padded sword. The force of the blow forced Bredak back as Jeral regained his balance and assumed the ready position. Bredak nodded grimly and resumed his advance.

"That was unexpected Jeral. Well done. It still will not be enough but well done."

Jeral slashed out towards Bredak's sword arm. The older man twisted to the side and pushed the weapon away with his shield. Quickly reversing himself he struck out with his shield catching Jeral full in the face. Jeral's nose broke with a loud crack as blood gushed from his face. Seeing stars Jeral staggered backwards as the blood flowed from his face.

"Sorry to mark up that pretty face of your boy. If you ask nicely I am sure the Lady Gellana can fix you up good as new."

Spitting blood Jeral charged into Bredak. Ducking under Bredak's defensive slash Jeral punched Bredak in his face with the hilt of his sword.

Bredak's face gushed blood as he spit out pieces of teeth.

Smiling through bloody lips Jeral taunted Bredak, "Hopefully Gellana can sort us both out."

Roaring in anger Bredak launched strike after strike at Jeral. Laughing as the blood poured down his face Jeral easily parried each strike and managed to slowly force the larger man backwards. Jeral struck out again and again striking Bredak in his torso and on his sword arm.

Jeral realized that he was winning, that he could finally beat Bredak, that he could kill the man who dared to touch him. A heat ran through his body, fueling his anger. Jeral snarled as he stabbed out again at Bredak. Breathing heavily Bredak staggered from the blow and lowered the point of his sword into the dirt.

Jeral imagined taking the padding off his sword and making the fight more interesting. Terrified at the realization that he was losing control Jeral shook his head and forced himself to breathe deeply and halt his advance. Regaining some semblance of calm Jeral smiled at the older warrior.

"Do you yield good Bredak?"

"To the likes of you? NEVER!"

Bredak lashed upwards with his sword and flung a clump of dirt into Jeral's eyes. Distracted by the maneuver Jeral never saw the blow that connected with the side of his head.

Day 83

Slowly, painfully Jeral opened his eyes and squinted into the sunlight streaming into his bedroom window. As Jeral adjusted to the glare he slowly looked around his room. His armor and weapons were stacked neatly against the wall and his clothes were sitting, neatly folded, on the table next to his bed. The door to his room opened and Jeral saw Bentley walk in, closely followed by Gellana. The gnomes both looked as tired as he felt.

When the pair saw Jeral sitting up they smiled and raced to his side.

Gellana roughly grabbed Jeral's face and twisted it side by side. She ran her wizened hands over his nose, face and head, muttering to herself as she did. "Nose straightened out properly. And such a pretty nose as well. Face healed, teeth all intact, skull returned to shape."

She patted Jeral lightly on the face as she stepped back to stand next to her husband. Bentley beamed as he eyed the bard. "You gave us quite a scare."

"All I remember was fighting Bredak. I think I took a blow to the head."

"You can say that. He nearly crushed your skull. By the time you were carried to the temple you were near death. It took two days for Gellana to repair all the damage done to you and keep you alive."

"My lady, I am in your debt." Jeral caught a glimpse of gold from around the cleric's neck.

Remembering Bentley's words from earlier in the week Jeral had to ask, "my lady, is that a new necklace?"

Beaming proudly Gellana pulled a necklace from under her shirt. It was a heavy necklace comprised of perfectly round spheres of silver, gold, and platinum. At the very bottom of the necklace was a large white gem stone shaped like a tear drop.

"My lady, that is breathtaking."

"I know, it was a gift from Bentley. Who knew that after all these years of marriage that old gnome could do something this romantic?"

Bentley chuckled and quipped. "Well you thanked me well enough, I could not walk for two days I was so exhausted."

The cleric blushed and quickly left the room.

Bentley smiled and climbed up onto the end of Jeral's bed.

"So now you know what paid for all the aid I provided to Rill and his people. That necklace is incredibly valuable. You gave us quite a scare my boy."

"I, I don't know what happened."

"What do you mean? You have lost every time you sparred with Bredak, this time he just happened to almost kill you. Although he did say you are becoming a fine swordman despite the defeat."

"It was strange Bentley. It started like any other sparring match. In fact I felt confident; sure I would win this time. At some point while we sparred I got angry, really angry. For a moment I was trying to kill Bredak."

"Well I am glad you did not kill him for he has served me well for some years and it is hard to get a reliable and trustworthy captain of the guard."

"It is not funny Bentley. I was so angry. I felt myself losing control."

"We all get angry on occasion Jeral. It is part of all of us, the mix of the light and the dark make us who we are."

"That may be true Bentley, but when I get angry I tend to get really angry and bad things happen to people."

"Well Jeral, you are a good man. Do what you must to keep your anger in check and it will all sort itself out. I am sure everything will work out in the end."


	25. Chapter 25: The City

Chapter 25 – The City – Day 90

Baldur's Gate!

Jeral stood in the middle of the Great Coastal Way and just stared, taking it all in. Other travelers on the now crowded road grumbled at the obstacle and flowed around him and his traveling companions. Having read about the city for years Jeral almost did not believe that he was finally looking at the city with his own eyes. Even from miles away the city spanned across his entire field of vision. Jeral gazed in wonder at the fortifications around the city. Massive walls of polished black stone rose one hundred feet in the air. The walls were topped with battlements and walkways and patrolled by a well trained guard force known as the Flaming Fist that had reportedly protected Baldur's Gate for generations. Every two hundred feet stood a guard tower that rose a further forty feet above the wall. In the unlikely event that invaders scaled the wall they would find themselves under fire from personnel in the towers on each side of the breach.

Jeral knew from his extensive study back in Candlekeep that in addition to a strong guard force Baldur's Gate was also served by a powerful cadre of wizards who protected the city from any magical enemies. Working with the guard force the wizards ensured that they could work in close coordination with the soldiers to provide for the defense of the city. Jeral could not imagine any army in the land that could succeed in taking the city by force. The city was rumored to be protected by magical wards that prevented anyone from teleporting into or out of the city. Similar charms also were in place to make anyone visible who attempted to enter the city cloaked by magic.

Approaching from the Southeast Jeral knew that they had to cross the Chinother River to enter the city. The river served as an additional level of defense on one side of the city. The Chinother was so broad that even the strongest bowman could not fire across the river. His bowshot would fall harmlessly mid river. From what Jeral had read of the city the river provided fresh water to the city through a warren of cisterns and public fountains. Even more fascinating was the way the city managed their waste. Through a vast network of underground tunnels waste from the city was carried out to the river. Baldur's Gate called the system a sewer and it was an engineering marvel that was studied by engineers and leaders from great cities across the realm.

The group steadily closed on the city. The trip had taken six days of steady travel. Bentley had graciously provided the group horses for five and a hill pony for Yeslick. Additionally, he assigned a dozen guards from the Inn to provide an escort to the city. With the escort the party made excellent time and was afforded some time to relax as the guards set up the camp every evening and cooked for the group.

By mid afternoon on their six day of travel the party stood at the foot of the great bridge. The group dismounted, said their farewells to their escort and watched the guards ride off to the South on their way back to Bentley and the Friendly Arm Inn. A quiet tension hung over the group as they understood that the dangers that lay ahead of them were assuredly greater than those they had faced already.

"Jeral, I know we have to track down the people trying to kill us but we are going to have to make time for some shopping. I have heard that the fashions of Baldur's Gate are renown throughout the lands."

"Well Imoen I will do what I can to ensure that our struggle for survival does not interfere with your shopping."

Jeral shook his head; he could always count on Imoen to focus on the lighter side of things. Smiling slightly he started walking across the Great Bridge of Baldur's Gate.

The bridge was aptly named. Wide enough for a dozen wagons to ride abreast the massive stone structure wended upwards to the midpoint of the river. At the middle of the river stood a great tower that commanded the river in both directions. No ship could pass underneath the bridge without the permission of the Grand Dukes. To receive that permission the ship master was required to pay a fee of five percent of the value of the carried goods. The river toll was one of many ways the Grand Dukes gained wealth and power and provided for the people of Baldur's Gate.

As impressive as the city was Jeral could not help but think that his companions had become quite impressive on their own rights. Jeral looked to his front and eyed the three men who formed a wall of armor and muscle to his front. Striding with purpose down the middle of the bridge was the Paladin squire Ajantis. As much as the man could annoy Jeral the bard had to admit that he was every inch the heroic paladin. His full suit of Ankheg plate mail gleamed in the sun like a giant emerald and his tunic showed the holy eye of Helm as well as the livery of the Order of the Radiant Heart.

To the paladin's right strode an even larger plate clad warrior. Minsc strode forward clad in an ornate suit of full plate mail. The armor was won at the bandit camp months earlier and Minsc wore it like a second skin. The massive sword Spider's Bane was strapped across his back and Boo sat perched happily on the man's shoulder as he enjoyed the fresh air.

To the paladin's left strode the dwarf Yeslick. The newest member of the group strode forward proudly wearing a well made suit of full plate mail that the party purchased for him in Beregost. The dwarf chatted happily with Ajantis as he strode forward with his war hammer casually resting on his shoulder. Despite being rather thin for a dwarf Yeslick still cut an impressive figure in his arms and armor.

Any one of the men by himself was going to gather attention in a crowd. Put the three together and every person who passed by had to stop and stare. The trio were gathering so much attention that people were walking into one another as they were too distracted to look where they were going. The party continued to move forward and the crowd parted as they walked along.

"Make way there! Clear a path! No lingering on the bridge!"

Two score pikemen in the livery of Baldur's Gate jogged out from the central tower and quickly pushed the crowd back. The guardsmen formed up into two long columns leaving Jeral and his five companions as the only souls on the center of the bridge. Jeral and his companions eyed the guards warily but calmed down once the guards did not make any threatening moves.

"Well you lot have to be the ones everyone is talking about. Even in a city such as this you six stand out."

Jeral watched as a short thick set man strode towards them; clearly this was someone of high rank in the Baldur's Gate militia. The man was of middle age and the temples of his hairline were turning his black hair grey. Clad in black chain mail the man held a wicked looking battle axe loosely in his hands as he strode forward. A pair of short swords were strapped to each hip and tied down to allow him to move freely. He carried himself as a man confident in his own abilities and more than prepared to handle any and all threats to him and his men. Despite the slightly menacing appearance he was smiling broadly. The warmth from the man's smile lost something due to the massive scar that angled from his right temple to the bottom of his left cheek.

The man stopped an arms length from Ajantis and placed the butt of his axe on the bridge. Leaning forward on the head of the axe the man nodded his head once. A dozen soldiers quickly set up a table with seven chairs in the middle of the cleared space on the bridge. Six chairs were on one side of the table while the seventh was centered on the other side of the table. Once the chairs were in place the soldiers laid out a set of chipped mugs, pitchers of wine and water, and plates of cheese and dates. Once everything was in place the scarred man propped his battle axe against the table, sat down in the chair and poured himself a glass of wine. He took a deep drink and sighed contentedly.

"The Commander is too generous, this is excellent wine."

Looking up the man smiled and addressed the group.

"Name is Scar, Captain in the Flaming Fist and second in command to Duke Eltan."

Imoen snorted and stifled a giggle.

"Ahhhh, you must be Imoen. I have heard much about your fun loving spirit and sense of humor. I assume that my name amuses you. Well I have another name. But when one gains an affectation such as this one in the defense of the city it becomes part of their reputation. I decided to embrace it and so I now am simply known as Scar or Captain Scar for any times that demand formality. Is that acceptable to you little one? Please sit down, little one. I only wish to talk to you and your companions and I believe that you will find me a useful ally."

Imoen blushed and quickly took a seat at the table. Scar looked at the rest of the companions and motioned to the table.

"Please sit all of you."

Reluctantly everyone took a chair at the table, all save Minsc. He stool directly behind Dynaheir's seat, slowly drew his massive two handed sword and held it at a low guard position, the tip of the blade scoring the stone of the bridge. Traffic slowly resumed on the bridge, all parties moving to the sides of the bridge to avoid the wall of soldiers surrounding the table.

Ajantis frowned and leaned forward at the table. "Sir, you seem to have us at a disadvantage."

"Told you lad, the name is Scar to you, Captain Scar to my men. Not looking to take any advantage, just looking to talk. I may not be a knight of your Order but I am an honest man."

"Is it wise to speak so openly then?"

Scar rocked back in his chair and laughed.

"Boy, you clearly do not understand the attention you and your companions have drawn. Saviors of Nashkel. Liberators of the Cloakwood Mines. Scourge of the bandit menace. Your legend is already spread throughout the realm and likely beyond. And look at you six. Why your bardic friend Jeral there is the only one that could pass unnoticed in a crowd. Look at you, all of you. A mage from a strange land and her near giant size protector. That pair attracts notice anywhere they go even without that animal on his shoulder. An ankheg clad paladin from the Order of the Radiant Heart in the city of coin. Quite the striking figure I might add. I am sure your exploits will earn your great favor in the Order when you return to the city of coin. Then there is the newest member of the group, the warrior priest Yeslick. Greetings to you good dwarf, may Vraccas grant you favor."

Yeslick nodded through a mouth full of cheese and continued eating.

"Imoen, the colorfully attired lass who appears to be transitioning from a life as a rogue to that of an apprentice to the mage Dynaheir. I applaud your choice of a more reputable profession. Besides one who dresses in bright colors like those is clearly ill suited for a life of stealth."

"And then there is you Jeral. The ward of the great mage Gorion of Candlekeep. Somehow you are at the middle of something you yet do not understand. I have heard of the death of your father and of the myriad of bounty hunters that pursue you and your companions."

Jeral frowned and twirled his wine around in his mug."You are very well informed good captain. I fear must ask, are you here to help or hinder us?"

"Ahhhhh, well done lad, you have hit on the key to it all. Personally I am holding judgedment on you six. However my commander Lord Eltan feels you and he are on the same side against a power that threatens the city."

"So what can we do for your Lord Eltan?"

"Well my Lady Dynaheir Lord Eltan needs someone to look into something for him."

"And clearly he wants someone who is not connected with the Flaming Fist to perform a task discretely."

Scar beamed and clapped his hands softly. "Correct my lady, although I would say that discrete is not a word I would use for the six of you. I prefer the term expendable. If you fail or are captured the Commander can claim to know nothing about you."

Jeral could not contain himself. "Well I assure you none of us consider ourselves expendable. By now everyone in the city must know we are meeting with you since this is quite the public location. So how can we possibly perform any discrete task for you?"

" Good point, this is a group that will get noticed anywhere it goes. If it was this easy for me to find you it will be easy for your enemies to find you as well.

Scar smiled and stood up. Spreading his arms wide he slowly spun in a circle and then sat down again. "Sometimes the best way to hide something is to obscure it with something else."

"Minsc does not understand what the scarred man says."

"I will be more direct. Everyone knows we have met. So I require you to complete two tasks for me. One will be public knowledge and one will not."

"We will be honored to support the Flaming Fist in any way we can. After all you are the law in Baldur's Gate and the Fist has a reputation for honesty."

"Ahhh spoken like a paladin. Very well, down to business."

Scar looked around to ensure that all of his men were still in their assigned positions and out of ear shot.

"This is what you need to do for the Commander. I need to have you visit the Seven Suns merchant consortium. Fat fellow named Jhasso runs the place. He is an old friend of the Commander. Something is not right over there."

"Ajantis leaned forward and fixed the mercenary captain with a stern look.

"What exactly do you need from us? If he is a friend of the Commander then a simple question should resolve any issue."

"That is the problem; Jhasso refuses to meet with the Commander. That, according to Eltan, is not something that would ever happen. The Seven Suns are also making horrible trades and slowly losing business to the Iron Throne. Jhasso is a brilliant merchant so one bad trade is possible but this many seems unlikely. The Commander is concerned and wants someone to look into it. And since you lot are already enemies of the Iron Throne this seems like a natural fit for you."

"Very well captain, we will visit the Seven Suns and chat with Jhasso."

"Excellent, now for the other job, the public reason for our conversation today."

Scar clapped twice and a young soldier approached the table. His right arm was held in a sling and blood was visible in spots on the sling. His face was largely obscured by a mass of long red hair. He nervously tucked his hair back behind his ears with his one good arm as he nervously eyed the adventurers.

"I have located mercenaries to investigate the sewers and search for the missing town folks. Please provide them the same report you provided to me."

"Yes Captain, immediately. For the past month people have gone missing. Every night more and more go missing."

Dynaheir straightened and interrupted the soldier's recounting. "In a city such as this people must go missing all the time. I am sure the thieves' guild and various other groups in the city take people all the time."

"Quite right my lady. However, there are far more than normally go missing in a city such as this. Additionally, most of the people gone missing have no connections with anything illegal or dangerous. So the Fist was tasked to investigate the disappearances last week. We started interviewing the families of the missing people and determined that they were all taken from the North West sector of the city. We put the trackers to work with their dogs and all the tracks brought us to the sewers. So my squad was assigned to go down into the sewers. There were ten of us, eight soldiers, one squad leader and our lieutenant. We headed down into the sewers, lit torches and headed to the first tunnel junction and couple hundred paces down the tunnel. Once there they came for us."

The boy shuddered involuntarily, paused and then resumed his tale. "Wave after wave of large yellow green insects with dozens of legs, and tentacles where their teeth should be, attacked us. We were holding our own and tearing into the beasts until one of them touched the lieutenant's arm with a tentacle. He became immobile as if held by magic and was quickly overrun by the beasties. We watched as he was dragged off and devoured right in front of us. With our officer down I am ashamed to say that we lost our courage. Our formation broke down and we were quickly overrun. I dropped my spear and ran for my life. I was the only one who got away."

The soldier hung his head in shame as he completed his tale.

Jeral could not imagine how a handful of carrion crawlers could overcome a squad of trained soldiers. While the creatures were terrifying they were no match for trained armored soldiers.

"So how did you injure your arm?"

"I was struck with an arrow as I fled Sir Jeral."

"No title for me soldier I am no knight or lord. Were any in your party armed with bows?"

"No."

"Have you ever heard of an insect using a bow?"

"No."

"Correct soldier. So that means that someone or something else is down there with those insects. I would also wager that they are the one controlling the creatures. Captain Scar, we will investigate the sewers on behalf of the Flaming Fist. It is our honor to serve the city. Thank you for providing us the opportunity."

Scar stood up and shook hands with each of the six in turn as they rose to their feet.

"Excellent, when you have discovered and removed the threat in the sewers report to me at the Flaming Fist compound to collect you 2,000 gold piece reward. If I am not there you may ask for Commander Eltan. Report to no one else for we are the only two who can pay out that level of bounty. We have also reserved rooms for you at the Elfsong tavern for a week. That should be adequate time to complete your assigned task. You will be comfortable there as it is one of the finest Inn's in the entire city."

Scar pointed to the table and his soldiers quickly cleared the table and removed the chairs and table from the center of the bridge. Without a look back Scar turned on his heel, marched back into the bridge tower and disappeared from site. His soldiers quickly followed leaving six slightly perplexed adventurers standing in the middle of the bridge as the crowds quickly encircled them once again.

Day 91

Ajantis stood next to a metal shield sized disc embossed with the Baldur's Gate seal and embedded in the middle of the cobblestone street. A squad of soldiers from the Flaming Fist quickly set up a perimeter to keep people away from the group.

Jeral looked down at the street and then up at his companions.

"Well this is where the Fist entered the sewer in search of the missing locals. If we follow the tunnel a few hundred paces then we should encounter the same creatures that killed all those soldiers."

Minsc leaned down and grunted once as he pulled the heavy metal lid out of the center of the street. He gently laid it down on the side of the road next to a tavern called the Blushing Mermaid, drew his great sword and descended down into the sewer. Yeslick and Ajantis quickly followed and once they were down in the tunnel the remaining party members followed them down. Imoen was the last one down the ladder and gently dropped down into ankle deep muck. She started screaming and Jeral cringed at the plaintive wailing.

"My boots! My beautiful boots! They are ruined! I cannot clean them after this. Someone is going to buy me new boots!"

"Imoen, quiet." Jeral hissed at Imoen through clenched teeth.

"I will not be quiet. These boots cost me a fortune. And in seconds they were ruined!" Imoen stomped her foot down in anger and the resulting splash covered her in slime almost to the waist. Imoen looked down at her slime covered legs and shuddered as her face turned redder and redder.

"I need a bath and a clean set of clothes and I need them now!"

"Imoen, you need to be quiet, you are placing all of us in danger."

"Jeral, you cannot possibly understand. I love these boots AND THEY ARE RUINED!"

Imoen screamed at the top of her lungs as she stomped her feet in anger, splashing more and more sewage all over her clothes.

"My lady, you must be quiet, there is danger near."

"Stuff it Ajantis! I am not your lady, you have made that clear. I hate this place, I want to be clean and I want new clothes and I want them now, now, now!"

Dynaheir stepped forward and whispered in Imoen's ear and suddenly her body went limp and she fell down into the muck. Jeral picked up her limp form, hefted her onto his shoulder, and climbed up the ladder. Laying her down in the middle of the street he instructed the lieutenant in charge of the patrol to stand guard over her until she woke from the sleep spell. Jeral quickly climbed back down into the sewer and knocked an arrow into his bow.

When he looked up he saw a wall of steel moving down the tunnel killing everything in its path. Imoen's screams had alerted the creatures in the tunnel and dozens of them were attempting to overwhelm Misnc, Ajantis and Yeslick. The three warriors were working in close coordination and steadily mowing down the carrion crawlers. The large insects repeatedly struck the three men with their paralyzing tentacles but they were unable to locate unprotected flesh beneath all of the armor. Jeral and Dynaheir followed behind the three men. Jeral launched arrows into the head of each creature as he passed to ensure they were dead while Dynaheir launched a handful of balls of light down the tunnel to ensure that everyone could see in the gloom.

After destroying dozens of the creatures the three pushed their way to the first tunnel intersection entering from the west. The intersection was a large overflow cistern intersected by six identical tunnels. As the five entered the cistern there was a pause in the attacks as the last of the carrion crawlers laid dead at their feet. Clicking sounds emanated from the tunnels to the east and the north east and the sounds steadily got louder.

Breathing heavily the five looked to one another and back at the tunnels.

"We must tread carefully here, lest we become surrounded."

"The paladin speaks truly. If any of those beasties touch our skin we are done for. And any gap in the line will likely ensure that we all fall."

"Yeslick, you and Ajantis both speak the truth. We need to clear out these creatures else we cannot complete the task assigned to us, yet we must tread carefully."

Dynaheir snapped her fingers to get everyone's attention.

"Leave that to me Jeral. Ajantis, if you, Yeslick and Minsc take the north east tunnel Jeral and I can cover the eastern one until your return." With a curt nod Ajantis and the other two warriors took off down the tunnel. Dynaheir sent a couple glowing balls of light off down the tunnel to illuminate their path.

Jeral watched the three men move out of sight and soon heard the sounds of combat at they engaged the next wave of carrion crawlers.

"Come with me Jeral, stay close and keep your bow ready."

Dynaheir rolled back the sleeves of her robe and strode off down the corridor. As they moved deeper into the tunnel the sounds of more creatures loomed louder and louder. The pair rounded a corner and stopped, mesmerized by the tunnel before them. For hundreds of paces the tunnel was filled with giant eggs, each of them the size of a dog. Jeral estimated that there were over three hundred carrion crawler eggs as well as a half dozen of the full grown creatures tending to the eggs. With a growing next and their need to feed Jeral was not surprised that more and more people were disappearing. He also knew there were no survivors since the insects would devour every person they brought back to their lair.

"Leave this to me Jeral." Dynaheir started muttering words of power and rolling her hands one over another. Jeral watched in awe as a small ball of light appeared in her hands, that ball steadily grew and then burst into flame and the blaze burned hotter and hotter as the mage manipulated it. Finally deciding that it was ready to cast Dynaheir thrust her hands out and then spread her arms as wide apart as they could go. The fireball hurtled out of her hands and immediately grew to engulf the entire size of the tunnel. The sphere quickly moved down the tunnel incinerating everything in its path. The muck at the bottom of the tunnel, the eggs and the few adult insects were quickly incinerated. By the time the spell had swept the tunnel clean it looked as it must have the first day of construction. There was not a speck of sewage or anything else left behind in the tunnel.

"Impressive as always Dynaheir. I am humbled to be in the presence of one with such a gift. We must return to the others."

The mage smiled tiredly as Jeral trotted back in the other direction to rejoin his companions; Dynaheir following close behind. The pair retraced their steps to the central cistern and turned down the north eastern tunnel in search of their companions. Carcasses from dozens of carrion crawlers littered the tunnel as the pair moved forward. The creatures showed signs of massive wounds from a pair of enchanted swords and an enchanted war hammer. Jeral stared in awe as the carnage his three companions had wrought. He could not help but feel inadequate when compared to the other four he was with. His magic was outclassed by Dynaheir while his close combat skills were severely lacking when compared with those of Yeslick, Ajantis and Minsc.

The bard's introspection was interrupted by the site of Minsc and the other two men coming back into view. Minsc held Spider's Bane in his right hand and carried a large sack in his left. The bag looked heavy and Jeral was shocked to see blood leaking from the bag. All three men looked exhausted and were covered in blood and gore.

"Minsc, it pleases me to see you and the others safe." Minsc beamed back at Dynaheir and Boo squeaked from a small pouch on the large ranger's belt.

"You two missed quite the fight. Beasties all around us, the three of us hacking our way through the mass of creatures. They lashed at us time and time again but they could not find a gap in our mail. These two long uns fought like dwarves, it was a site to behold."

Minsc smiled and his voice boomed and echoed throughout the tunnel

"Master dwarf you were a credit to the Smith as well. Your hammer crushed many an enemy on this day. You can fight with Minsc and Boo any time."

"Well I am glad to hear that everyone fought so well but I have to know, what is in the bag?"

The three men smiled and looked to one another. Finally Ajantis replied. "Well your comments at the bridge were absolutely correct Jeral. These mindless creatures were somehow controlled by a rather nasty ogre magi. We were fortunate to resist his spells and despite his best efforts arrows were of little use against heavy plate armor. With no spells and no bow to keep us at a distance he was little trouble after that."

"Ajantis, you have ended the threat to the city, I commend you. But I must ask again, what is in the bag?"

Smiling, Ajantis only said one word, "proof."


	26. Chapter 26: The Blushing Mermaid

_Bondari thanks for the review. Yeah I feel bad giving Imoen a rough go of it given what happens in BG2 but what can you do? She has a tough time in this chapter as well._

Chapter 26 – The Blushing Mermaid – Day 91

"Lieutenant, please take this bag to Captain Scar with our complements and inform him that the menace from the sewers is no more. We will come by the Flaming Fist compound tomorrow to provide a more thorough briefing. In the interim the contents of that bag should provide him the necessary information and evidence of our success."

"And tell him not to forget our payment." Ajantis glared at Imoen, annoyed at her interruption, before continuing.

"As I was saying lieutenant, please head straight back to the Flaming Fist compound, report to Captain Scar and we will be there tomorrow."

"Very well Sir Ajantis we will leave straight away."

"I am just a squire good lieutenant, I am not yet a knight on the Order."

"My apologies, Squire Ajantis. Would you like me to leave a few soldiers with you to serve as an escort?"

Minsc clapped the lieutenant on the shoulder and the mercenary flinched from the strength of the friendly blow. "We have no need of assistance from the brave Flaming Fist soldiers. We are heroes of goodness and will celebrate our victory with much food and drink; there will be no more excitement for today."

"Very well. We will return to the Fist headquarters and notify Captain Scar about your success." The lieutenant bowed slightly, formed up his squad and marched them down the street.

The group watched the soldiers march away while Minsc replaced the sewer cover in the middle of the street.

Ajantis rounded on Imoen and glared at her.

"Imoen, please show more respect to the soldiers of the Fist, they are the authority in Baldur's Gate."

"Stuff it Ajantis. I am in no mood to mind my manners or listen to a lecture from a stuffed shirt like you. My clothes are ruined, my favorite boots are ruined, I smell like an ogre's chamber pot and Dynaheir knocked me out. So I am not having a great day."

"I did not knock you out Imoen. I merely cast a sleeping charm on you to stop you from endangering the group. You were quite out of control."

"I was not out of control Dynaheir. I was angry, there is a difference."

"There is anger and then there is out of control rage and that was where you were my dear. If you were more in control of your emotions you would have noticed me casting the spell and could have countered it easily with a minor disruption charm. Any novice apprentice learns disruption charms in their first few months of training and you have already learned them quite well."

Imoen stomped her foot on the ground and it squished when it struck as foul liquid pooled on the street.

"Fine. So I am rude and full of rage. And on top of that I am apparently a lousy apprentice. Well you know what this rage filled girl wants right now? She wants a drink, a bath and some new clothes in that order."

"That sounds like an excellent idea sis, when we get back to the Elfsong drinks and baths are on me. I will even chip in to get you new boots."

"Sod that Jeral. First of all you are definitely paying for the boots and a new outfit, that is not open for discussion. But the Elfsong is almost an hour walk from here. I need a bath and a drink and I need them now. And what do I see right there? Why a tavern called the Blushing Mermaid. It is like the Gods want me to have a drink. I am going in there and no one can stop me."

Imoen stuck her tongue out at the group, tossed her hair over her shoulder and sauntered into the tavern.

"Well I guess I could use a drink, anyone else want one? Apparently I am buying so let's go catch up with Imoen."

Jeral did not wait to hear any responses and headed for the tavern door. His hand reached the door handle when a cry of alarm from Imoen pierced the air. Her scream was quickly followed by a few loud thuds that were quickly followed by an inhuman roar and the sound of splintering wood. Jeral caught a flash of color in his peripheral vision and watched in horror as Imoen was launched through the front window of the tavern in a spray of shattering glass. She landed in a heap in the road and blood flowed from dozens of small wounds.

Imoen held up a trembling arm and pointed at the tavern. In a weak voice she croaked out a warning, "Assassins looking for us and this lot have a giant. You can handle the rest, I am just going to lay here and relax." She sighed deeply and passed out on the ground.

Dynaheir and Yeslick raced over to tend to Imoen while the remaining three drew their swords.

With a roar the entire front wall of the tavern shattered as a hill giant forced his way outside. Almost 12 feet tall the massive creature lumbered towards them. Heavily muscled and twice as broad as any man the creature wore a set of fine black chain mail that was clearly custom made for him from a master armorer. In his hands he carried a large club with iron studs imbedded throughout.

Minsc and Ajantis charged to engage the beast. They were immediately placed on the defensive. Despite the giant's immense bulk he was incredibly agile and wielded his club with dizzying speed. Minsc and Ajantis were forced to parry blow after blow and slowly yielded ground to the creature. The pair was fighting to remain upright and had no chance to land an attacking blow.

Jeral slowly slid to the side, looking to position himself behind the creature to strike. As he was moving the tavern door burst open and a pair of mercenaries emerged. Sighting Jeral the pair charged him. Both were tough looking men who were wearing sets of fine black chain mail. One man wielded a scimitar while the other carried a trident. Both charged Jeral and he was soon twisting and parrying to keep himself from falling to their attacks. The greater reach of their weapons ensured that he could not get close enough to strike a blow. Jeral was more than a match for either one but he was outclassed by the pair of them together.

Yeslick muttered the incantation for a minor healing spell and felt the healing magics flow out of his hands and into the downed girl. The worst of Imoen's wounds closed and she appeared out of danger. Yeslick patted Imoen on the face and looked at Dynaheir.

"This lass will be all right. Please keep an eye on your apprentice for a bit. I will be right back."

Hefting his war hammer he quickly got to his feet and smiled as he contemplated his first ever combat with a traditional dwarven enemy. Uttering a battle cry he charged the giant. Rolling under a strike from the creature's club Yeslick regained his footing and slammed his hammer into the inside of the creature's knee. The hammer struck with a sickening crack as the knee and upper shin shattered. Losing his balance the giant dropped to one knee and reached out to steady himself before he fell to the ground. In such a position one swing from Spider's Bane ended the fight. The giant fell to the ground dead with the massive war blade embedded half way through its neck. Despite the ranger's immense strength and his razor sharp blade he was unable to decapitate the creature in one blow.

Minsc placed a leg on the corpse and slowly worked his blade free. Yeslick stood stock still admiring his handiwork and wiping his hammer off on the giant's clothes.

Seeing that Jeral was outnumbered and on the defensive Ajantis joined him and quickly ran the scimitar armed mercenary through with a well placed strike to the torso. Despite the quality of the man's armor the Paladin's enchanted blade sliced through it with ease. Undeterred by the loss of his companions the remaining mercenary stabbed out at Jeral with his trident. Pivoting sideways to his left Jeral deftly avoided the strike and stabbed out with his sword arm. His short sword barely reached but it was enough to stab the man in the stomach. While not a mortal wound it was sufficient to cause the man to drop his trident and fall to the ground as he attempted to staunch the bleeding.

Jeral watched dispassionately as the man bled out in front of him. Yeslick and the others were too distracted to notice and Jeral had no interest in tending to a man who was trying to kill him. Jeral shivered with excitement as he watched life depart the man's body. Ashamed of the enjoyment he felt, Jeral walked inside the tavern in search of a drink.

Jeral entered the tavern and was stunned to see three more mercenaries dead on the floor of the tavern. Jeral examined the bodies in turn and was startled to see that each man had been killed by one of Imoen's throwing knives. Two of the men had taken knives to the chest while the third had her blade buried in the center of his forehead. Somehow Imoen managed to take down three mercenaries while surprised and outnumbered six to one. He felt an immense pride and fondness for his sister. Despite all of her whining and childish antics she was still where she belonged. Under the brightly colored clothes and the purple hair lay the soul of a very dangerous woman.

The walk back to the Elfsong took longer than expected. Minsc carried Imoen since she was still too weak to walk on her own. Ajantis and Dynaheir stayed behind to provide an accounting of the events to a Flaming Fist patrol that had arrived just as the group was ready to depart. Jeral, Yeslick, and Imoen were all drinking and talking excitedly as they walked along. Imoen had refused to leave unless she got a drink so Jeral bought the bottles and brought them along on the walk.

"I cannot believe that I was bashed through a tavern window. How could I let myself get hit by that hulking beast? I am supposed to be quicker than that."

"Ahhh fear not lass, that beastie and his companions caught all of us by surprise. Additionally, they were well paid and highly trained mercenaries. There is no shame in getting caught flat footed by a group such as theirs when they were spoiling for a fight. But what a fight that was, I have never fought a giant before but my people sing tales of combat against armies of the beasts."

"Little Imoen fought bravely. Minsc and Boo saw the three men you killed in the tavern before you were injured. Even Minsc could not have done that well so quickly."

Imoen blushed at the flattery from the dwarf and ranger.

"Im, I think I know how the giant was able to hit you so easily. He cheated." Jeral was closely examining the large silver bracers that the hill giant wore into battle.

"These bracers are heavily enchanted. I believe they are designed to make the wearer more effective in battle. They are very similar to those worn by Minsc."

"I knew it, there was no way he could have hit me otherwise. That makes me feel so much better." Imoen kicked her legs in delight and she squired around in the ranger's arms.

"So glad your confidence is restored Imoen. Yeslick, I believe that you can make the best use of these."

The dwarf took the offered bracers and eyed them critically.

"Laddie, these are a wee bit too large for me as you can see."

"Trust me master dwarf, just touch one to your forearm." Yeslick removed the gauntlets from his own mail and tucked them into a pouch at his side. He then tentatively touched one of the enchanted gauntlets to his left forearm. As soon as the gauntlet encountered flesh is quickly started to shrink until it fit Yeslick perfectly. Yeslick then placed the second gauntlet on his right forearm and it too quickly shrunk to fit Yeslick's other forearm.

"Ahhh, I can feel energy racing through my arms."

Yeslick pulled his war hammer off his back and took a few practice swings; he then spun his hammer around in his hands.

"Very nice, these do make everything move a bit more quickly. I will surely put these gauntlets to good use. You have my thanks Jeral."

Day 92

Dynaheir quietly slid into a seat at the table next to Minsc. The ranger was wolfing down a large bowl of stew and half a loaf of freshly baked bread. Yeslick was eating a similar meal with near equal enthusiasm and crumbs and stew decorated his beard liberally. Jeral sipped a mug of hot tea and nibbled on some fruit as he watched the other two eat heartily. Dynaheir smiled as she watched Minsc wolf down his food and watched as Boo happily scampered across the table feeding on the crumbs the two men had strewn all over the table.

"So Jeral, what should we do today? Besides watching these two wolf down their breakfast of course."

"Imoen is in no shape for any excitement today so Yeslick has agreed to tend to her and ensure she gets the rest she needs. Ajantis is woefully behind in writing his reports to the Order to he plans to visit the Temple of Helm to pray and prepare his notes for dispatch."

"So that leaves the three of us."

"Well four if you count Boo."

Dynaheir fought back a smirk, "of course we cannot forget Boo Minsc. So what shall the four of us do today?"

"I think we had best pay a visit to the Seven Suns merchants consortium today. With assassins on the watch for us we cannot afford to waste a day sitting idle."

"Is it wise for us to go into potential danger without Ajantis, Yeslick and Imoen?"

"I think the risk is minimal. Jhasso is in his home so it is likely a simple matter of gaining his confidence or understanding why he is refusing contact with his old friend Commander Eltan. Besides, a smaller group can maintain a lower profile. In fact this may work to our advantage It may make it easier for us to avoid other assassins as well."

"How so Jeral?"

"We can pose as an affluent couple and Minsc is our ever present body guard."

"Excellent, I so love the opportunity to dress up in my best finery. If we have time I would also love to visit the Sorcerous Sundries. It is the finest magic shop this side of the city of coin."

"Ok, let's meet back down here in thirty minutes ready to go."

"Make it two hours Jeral."

"Two hours? That is ridiculous."

Dynaheir twirled her hair around her index finger. "Beauty takes time. But rest assured I am worth the wait."

Jeral decided to take advantage of the time to make himself as presentable as possible. He called down for a bath and also asked them to send for a barber. After a soak in a hot tub and a good scrubbing Jeral felt renewed. The baths the day prior were to remove the stench of the sewers; this bath was just an indulgence. After the bath Jeral sat while the barber shaved him and neatened up his hair. When complete Jeral tied his hair back with a small black cord. Wearing his hair up sharply changed his appearance and made him look much more respectable than he usually did.

After paying the barber and sending him on his way Jeral turned to his wardrobe. He had very few good clothes available as options. He brought few clothes with him when he departed Candlekeep and had only picked up a few items in Beregost. Fortunately Bentley had provided him with some additional clothes during his most recent stay at the Friendly Arm Inn. Apparently they were clothes owned by traveling companions of Bentley and his wife; companions that never made it home.

Jeral pulled out a pair of dark grey breeches, a sky blue shirt of the finest silk and a short waisted black jacket with buttons of solid electrum. Jeral buckled on his sword belt and hung his short sword on his left hip. He added a pair of throwing knives in his highly polished black leather boots. He tucked his wand of lightening into the inner jacket pocket and slung his zink over his back. Eyeing himself in the mirror he looked every inch the foppish young noble out for a stroll.

The scar over his left eye could be explained away as a dueling accident from his youth, which in Jeral's case was actually the truth. Jeral frowned when he realized that going out on town as a foppish member of the nobility did not allow for any armor or his long bow so he left his mail folded neatly beneath his bed next to his long bow and quiver. Tucking a heavy coin purse into his jacket Jeral left his room and headed downstairs to await Dynaheir.

Jeral and Minsc sat quietly at the table in the common room. It was almost time for patrons to start entering for the noon meal. Dynaheir was late. Jeral strummed his fingers on the table impatiently while Minsc chatted happily with Boo. Boo sat up straight and let out a long squeak as he stared at the stairs. Minsc and Jeral turned to look and they watched as Dynaheir descended the stairs. Jeral's mouth dropped open as he watched Dynaheir enter the common room of the tavern. Dynaheir had forsaken her traditional mage robes and was wearing an outfit that made her look like a member of some foreign noble house.

Her feet were clad in golden slippers. Instead of robes or a dress she wore shimmering blue pants that were tightly gathered at the ankle but billowed out loosely and were tied by a red sash at her waist. She wore a sleeveless white top with a high neck and covered it with a golden shawl. Around her neck she wore a simple platinum chain that supported an emerald the size of a robin's egg. Her hair was pulled up and worn in a top knot on her head, giving her the illusion of height. The outfit served to soften her normally harsh features and make her look even more exotic than usual. Jeral has always known that Dynaheir was a handsome woman but he had never considered her as particularly attractive…..until today.

Thinking of Dynaheir in that way made Jeral think fondly about another exotic dark skinned woman but he quickly put that thought out of his head. He would probably never see her again so she was best forgotten.

Smiling Jeral stood up and held out his arm. "Milady you look lovely. Care to join me in a walk around our fair city?" Dynaheir rewarded Jeral with a flash of teeth as she smiled. "You clean up nicely as well my good sir. It would be a pleasure to accompany you on a stroll."

The pair walked arm in arm out of the tavern and Minsc trailed them by a few paces. To all appearances they were a well off couple taking a stroll followed by a body guard to ensure their safety. In that way they appeared just like any other wealthy person moving around Baldur's Gate. As they walked through the city Jeral noticed a few ruffians eying them hungrily, at least until they saw the massive body guard trailing the couple. At that point they clearly decided to look for easier prey and moved along. After a leisurely walk they arrived at the Seven Suns merchant consortium. The large red stone building stood four stories tall. All of the windows were shuttered making the entire building look unwelcoming.

"Well it looks like Commander Eltan may be on to something. This does not look like any merchant house I have ever seen. Normally they work to look welcoming and prosperous in order to attract customers and investors."

"Very true Dynaheir and they should also have guards posted out front as well. Something is very clearly wrong here."

Jeral and Dynaheir walked up the steps to the double doors hand in hand. Smiling at Dynaheir Jeral lifted the door knocker and let it drop against the door with a loud thud. After a few minutes Jeral lifted the knocker and dropped it again, and then again.

"Not very receptive to customers," Dynaheir noted wryly.

"Well I am not leaving." Jeral knocked again, and again and again. Tiring of the lack of response Jeral realized that more aggressive actions might be needed.

"Minsc, be a good man and let these people know that we are here and would like to come in."

Smiling Minsc strode up the stairs and looked at the doors critically. He examined the doors, the locks and the hinges. Eyeing the seam where the two doors connected Minsc lifted a large mailed arm and slammed it into the door. The doors give slightly from the blow and red stone dust drifted down from the top of the door frame. Despite the clearly audible blow there was no movement or sound of any kind from inside the house.

Jeral eyed the street warily and was surprised to see that most in the street were paying no attention to the scene on the doorstep of the merchant house.

Dynaheir nervously asked, "Is it possible that no one is home Jeral? Perhaps we need to come back another day."

"Anything is possible I suppose, but that seems rather unlikely. A home this large requires a large staff and it seems kept up reasonably well. Besides I for one did not get dressed up for nothing."

"Boo says that the house is not empty and they want us to go away."

Smiling Jeral could not resist asking, "So what does Boo think we should do?"

"Boo says that the direct approach is best. Pretend that Jhasso owes you money and that we are here to collect."

"Actually that is a great idea Minsc. Did Boo also say how we should get in?"

"Of course he did Jeral. Boo is very smart. Please hold Boo for a minute and then step away from the door. He does not wear armor like I do so what happens next may not be safe for him."

Minsc handed Boo over to Jeral and then bounded down the steps. Pivoting on his heel he accelerated rapidly, ran up the steps, and slammed his plate clad shoulder into the center of the double doors. He struck the door with an audible crack and the doors shuddered from the impact. Frowning and muttering that it normally only took one hit Minsc trotted back down the stairs, turned around and hurled himself into the doors again.

This time the beam barring the doors closed shattered and the doors swung open in a spray of splinters and fragments of stone. Minsc drew his sword from the scabbard on his back and slowly moved into the mansion looking around warily. Jeral and Dynaheir entered the room after the ranger and looked around the entry foyer. Jeral patted Minsc on the back and silently handed the hamster back to him.

The foyer was opulent with rich carpets, well made furniture and expensive tapestries on the walls. Dynaheir quickly muttered a few words of power and a half dozen globes of light winked into existence and spread out throughout the room. The entire interior of the building spoke to wealth, power and opulence. Despite the rich furnishings everything was covered in a thick layer of dust and the house looked as if no one had tended to the house in weeks.

Minsc sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose.

"This house smells of death Jeral, something is very wrong."

The sounds of a door slamming upstairs startled the trio and they whirled to face the threat. The sounds of shuffling feet were followed by muffled steps on the carpet as someone slowly descended the stairs. The three watched warily as a stooped grey haired man slowly descended the stairs clearing a narrow path through the dust as he approached. His skin hung loosely off his face and looked too large for his body. He was clad in the black attire worn by servants; however his clothes were faded and badly soiled. No master of a merchant house would allow anyone to work in such sloppy livery.

"Why are you here? We are not welcoming vissssssitorsssssss today."

Putting on his best aristocratic sneer Jeral stepped forward.

"How dare you keep us waiting? I have business with your master. Get Jhasso immediately."

The servant's eyes moved rapidly from one person to another as he formulated a reply.

"We are clossssssssed. Go away."

"Get your master, or I will send my bodyguard here to go get him. I do not engage with my lessers."

The man's eyes drifted to Minsc and he licked his lips nervously.

"Very well, please come with me to his ssssstudy and I will fetch him." He turned on his heel and started slowly walking up the stairs. Jeral started walking forward followed by Dynaheir and Minsc.

"You two must wait here! The master will only see this one! He will not see anyone else."

The old man was shaking as he faced the three visitors. Jeral motioned to the other two and followed the servant up the stairs. He looked back at Dynaheir and mouthed 'be ready' as he followed the old man up the stairs. Wordlessly the servant opened the doors to the study and walked away without a word. Jeral walked into the room and looked around, feigning a bored look. The study was even more richly appointed than the downstairs. Two entire walls were filled with bookshelves and Jeral recognized dozens of incredibly valuable works, all covered under a thick layer of dust like everything else in the house. Forgetting himself he picked up a couple of the tomes and started absently flipping through them. For a moment he was back in Candlekeep, surrounded by all the knowledge of the realm.

The door on the far wall swung open and a grotesquely fat man shambled into the room followed by the servant. He was nearly bald and a thick chain of pearls struggled to encircle his neck and his number of fleshy chins. He was barefoot and wore nothing save a thick robe of fine grey furs. Jeral was shocked to see streaks of blood on the collar of the robe.

"Why are you here?"

Jhasso's voice was unsettling and Jeral knew something was very very wrong.

"You owe me money, a lot of money."

"Impossible! I do not know you. I am a rich man, I owe no one anything."

"You are wrong on both counts fat man. You know me; I have been in this house many times. I am the nephew of Commander Eltan and you borrowed money from me for some disreputable purchases from Thay. I am here to collect what's mine."

"Impossible, None of this was in Jhasso's mind."

"Uh, want to think that last statement through?"

"What? I mean my mind."

"Sure. That is what you meant. So where is my money?"

"Enough! I tire of this. Time to end this façade and show you which one of us is lesser."

Jhasso's body started to tremble and his skin turned grey. His body started to reshape into a long limbed humanoid.

Jeral watched the pair in front of him transform. He was unable to move as he was overwhelmed by the sight in front of him.

"Doppelgangers," he whispered to himself as he started to backpedal away from the pair of creatures.

The creatures completed their transformations and ripped the clothes from their bodies. They gazed at Jeral through narrow yellow eyes and their mouths watered at the thought of human flesh. The pair slowly advanced on Jeral, confident in their ability to handle their sole opponent.

"You will die thisssssss day fleshling. Your friendsssssss will die as well."

Jeral quickly muttered to himself and was pleased when three copies of him came into being.

The pair of creatures stopped and stared at the four men standing in front of them. Jeral quickly drew his wand of lightning and aimed it at the lead doppelganger. A bolt of lightning launched out, striking the creature in the chest. The smell of burned flesh filled the air as the creature cried out in pain and staggered back. Though injured it kept advancing and lashed out at Jeral. As the creature attacked one of Jeral's duplicates winked out of existence. Jeral activated the wand again and a second bolt struck the beast and it howled in pain again as it fell to the ground dead.

Jeral turned to face the second creature and launched a bolt into it as is slashed at Jeral. The creature staggered back from the electrical bolt and it stuck once and then again as Jeral's remaining images winked out of existence. Jeral smiled as he aimed his wand at the beast and activated it again. The wand vibrated in his hand and snapped in half.

'_So that is what happens when a wand is exhausted of all its charges_,' Jeral thought, '_fascinating_.'

Jeral dropped the wand and threw himself to the side as he twisted to avoid the creature's claws. Quickly regaining his feet he drew his short sword and faced the beast. Snarling the creature clawed at Jeral. Ducking under the claws he stabbed out and cut deeply into the creature's stomach. Black fluid gushed out of the open wound. The creature clutched its hands to the wound in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. Seizing the chance Jeral lunged forward once and then again leaving a pair of puncture wounds in the creature's chest. The doppelganger fell to its knees and pitched over into the plush carpet, black blood soaking into the rich fabric.

Jeral wiped his sword on the rug and raced downstairs to check on Minsc and Dynaheir. Jeral was halfway down the staircase when he stopped in his tracks. The entry foyer was a scene of utter devastation and carnage. There were a dozen doppelgangers strewn across the room, their black blood sprayed everywhere. Many were hacked to pieces while others were smoldering or still on fire. There was not a single piece of intact furniture in the room. Minsc stood in the middle of the room. His armor was scratched in dozens of places and he was breathing heavily. Spider's Bane was held in the guard position and coated with black blood. Dynaheir stood next to Minsc with a dagger in her hand. Her hair was mussed and one leg of her pants was ripped open.

'_Thank the Gods they are all right. Where was she hiding that knife? Nice leg_.' Jeral shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"You two ok?"

Dynaheir swallowed once and nodded tightly. "Yes, we are unharmed. I feared that we would be overwhelmed but Minsc was magnificent. The creatures poured out of the basement and Minsc held them back, allowing me time to prepare some surprises for them."

"Well judging by the scorch marks I suspect you put your affinity for fire to good use."

"I would be a fool if I did not use my gifts to their greatest advantage."

"Do you think there are any more of them?"

"I do not know Jeral, but I think it is unlikely. With all of the commotion we have made I would think anything here would have already attacked us."

"Very well Dynaheir. Let me get a few things from the library upstairs and then we can search the rest of the house for Jhasso."

Jeral returned to the office and picked up the pearl necklace from the doppelganger corpse. He also grabbed a pair of priceless tomes from Jhasso's library.

'_If I keep one and give one to Imoen then we may be able to return to Candlekeep someday if we so choose_.'

Jeral was unsure if he ever wanted to return home but having a priceless tome would allow him the option to make that decision.

After a rapid search of the upper floors turned up nothing of note Jeral returned downstairs to rejoin Minsc and Dynaheir. The door to the basement was open and the wooden stairs descended into darkness. Dynaheir conjured a couple more floating globes of light and sent them down into the basement ahead of Minsc. Minsc slowly descended into the basement closely followed by Jeral and Dynaheir. As they moved down the stairs the stench of death and decay was heavy on the stairwell and became more pronounced as they descended. Jeral fought back the bile rising in his throat as he descended into the basement.

Unlike the rest of the house the basement was unadorned and designed for simple functionality. Lacking any pretence it was a simple stone floor and brick walls. Interior walls were brick as well and doors were unfinished wood. Minsc sniffed the air and headed towards the back of the basement. Moving through a narrow archway Minsc entered the larder and descended a few steps into the cold room. Wheels of cheese, casks of ale and sides of salted meat were piled high on each side of the room. In the center of the room lay a pile of bodies and bones. By a quick count Jeral saw over three dozen men, women and children piled in a heap. Scraps of clothing and flesh were strewn everywhere.

Jeral eyed the pile of corpses and fought back a wave of nausea while Dynaheir vomited softly in the corner. "Who could do such a thing?" Dynaheir croaked in despair.

"Doppelgangers keep their hosts alive if they wish to listen in on their thoughts in order to maintain a more convincing illusion. Apparently this lot did not feel the need or were unconcerned about discovery. These poor souls look like they have been dead for at least a couple of weeks."

"That is all well and good Jeral but who would set out to destroy the Seven Suns?"

"Well they were competition to the Iron Throne so that is the most likely force behind all of this."

"Well Jeral the Iron Throne must be dark indeed, for as bad as slavery is using creatures such as these is far worse."

Jeral took one last long look at the pile of bodies and then turned to head back upstairs.

"I suspect before we are done with them they will regret many things. Let's get out of here, I think we all need some fresh air."


	27. Chapter 27: Day on the Town

Chapter 27 – Day on the Town – Day 93

The pair faced off in the stable of the Elfsong Tavern and saluted each other with their weapons. After sparring for close to an hour both were drenched in sweat as they shook hands and started pulling the padding off of their blades.

"Ajantis, the matter is closed. Imoen and I are not going with you and the others. If she does not get some shopping done today she is going to kill me."

"Well why doesn't Dynaheir go with her? Shopping is after all more suitable to the fairer sex."

"By the Gods Ajantis you really do not understand women do you? Never say something like that in ear shot of either of them for you will never hear the end of it. Imoen has been through a lot. She just needs a relaxing day of shopping with her brother."

"Very well Jeral I understand the pull of family."

"Thank you again for the sparring session, I appreciate your taking the time to train with me. I have not sparred since we left the Friendly Arm Inn so I needed the work."

"It is my pleasure. In the Order we spar every day so this reminds me of home. You are getting much better by the way."

"You are too kind Ajantis, I may be doing better but I know I am not yet a match for you."

"Your technique is excellent; but I do not understand why you place yourself at a disadvantage by fighting with that short sword. You have the size and strength to handle a proper blade."

"There is merit in your words but I must make do with what we have. We only have one heavily enchanted long sword and it is better placed in your sword arm than mine. This blade is heavily enchanted as well and I am better served fighting with this than a long sword of lesser enchantment."

"Your words have wisdom Jeral, even if your actions yesterday showed a lack of the same."

"Ajantis, we needed to investigate the Seven Suns and it seemed safe enough."

"The three of you were attacked by a nest of doppelgangers."

"Technically the three of us destroyed a nest of doppelgangers."

"You could have been killed."

"Ajantis, we have faced dangers almost every day since we have met and the dangers are only increasing. Risk is inevitable, danger is inevitable and it will be a wonder if we all survive through the next fortnight."

"Well that was cheerful Jeral. We had best clean up so we can meet the others at breakfast."

"Agreed. Let's go clean up and meet everyone for breakfast. You can take Yeslick, Dynaheir and Minsc to meet with Captain Scar….."

"…while you take Imoen shopping."

"Exactly, you visit with the Flaming Fist while I go shopping with my sister."

As planned, Jeral and Imoen departed the tavern together after a leisurely breakfast in search of a tailor or seamstress of the highest quality. Imoen walked with a sense of purpose as she turned first one way and then another. Jeral was quickly losing his orientation and was not sure where they were headed as Imoen took them depper and deeper into the side streets and back alleys of Baldur's Gate.

"So where are we going Imoen?"

"We are heading to the shop of Madame Clarisse."

"And who is Madame Clarisse?"

"She is the most talented tailor and dressmaker in the entire city. She can make anything for anyone."

"Ok, this should be interesting."

Madame Clarisse's shop was not what Jeral expected. It was located in a narrow alley and a simple sign overhead read 'tailor.' The sign and door were both weather beaten and heavily scarred from years of exposure to the elements. It did not look like anything more than a run down shop.

The pair entered into the shop and were immediately addressed by a young girl of ten or twelve years of age. The spartan room was empty save for a pair of large mirrors, a couple comfortable chairs and the young girl sitting at a desk. The child looked up and smiled prettily showing perfect white teeth and dazzling violet eyes.

"Good morning, how may we help you?"

Imoen bent forward and smiled warmly. "Good morning little girl. My name is Imoen and this is my brother Jeral. We are here to buy some new clothes and boots."

"Excellent. Please know that we are very costly. Perhaps the two of you would be better suited for a less exacting shop? We can recommend some lovely lower cost alternatives."

"Aren't you a cheeky little girl?" Imoen shot back at the child.

"I am not trying to be rude but I have very explicit instructions. We only cater to the most demanding and well heeled customers and pardon my directness but the two of you do not look very well heeled."

The thick string of pearls landed on the desk in front of the little girl with a snap. She took out a small eye lens from the desk drawer and gazed at the necklace critically. She smiled warmly and rang a small bell on the corner of the desk.

"It appears I was wrong about you two, my apologies."

A tall large boned woman entered the room from a curtain in the back. She was an attractive woman of early middle age with a head of thick black hair and violet eyes that mirrored those of the young girl at the desk. She was also heavily pregnant and held her back as she awkwardly approached.

"Welcome to my shop. I am Madame Clarisse, and this is my daughter Tanya. What may I do for you today?"

"I am Imoen and this is my brother Jeral. I am in desperate need of some new clothes and some new footwear. If time permits my brother's attire could use some improvement as well."

Clarisse eyed them both critically.

"I can see that my dear. Jeral please have a seat and turn your chair to face the front door. Tanya, please close and latch the front door of the shop so we are not disturbed."

Madame Clarisse clapped her hands and a pair of teenage girls came out from the back room. One carried a box while the other had a sewing kit with a tape measure, pins, chalk and scissors.

"These are my daughters Talya and Tarya. Lady Imoen please disrobe and step up on the box."

"Disrobe?"

"Of course dear. In order to get proper measurements I need to have you undressed. We will also design you some new underclothes as well. All of my customers get under things to accompany their new clothes."

Imoen reluctant disrobed and stepped up on the box. "Jeral, if you peek I swear to the Gods a dagger will end up in your eye."

"Never mind me sis, I am sitting here staring at the door."

"So my dear, what kind of clothes are you looking for?"

"I need a couple every day outfits as well as at least one outfit for when a girl needs to look pretty. I also need a new set of every day boots, a pair of soft soled shoes and a pair of slippers. Ummmmm, is it cold in here or is it just me?"

"Never mind that dear; I can get you a glass of mulled wine for the chill. As for your attire we can manage to make what you need without any trouble. My child this may be a delicate question but I must ask. Do you plan on doing dangerous things while wearing these clothes?"

"Probably."

"Do you plan to continue your magical studies?"

Imoen turned and started open mouth at Madame Clarisse.

"Don't gawk dear it is positively unladylike. If you dress a certain type of customer you learn how to pay attention to detail in order to provide the best possible service. I know what residue from spell components looks like on the hands of a mage. No matter how many times you wash your hands some of those components will never come off."

"Don't I know it."

"Will you also need room for your specialized gear?"

"What specialized gear?"

"Why your thieves tools of course."

Dusk was starting to arrive when Jeral and Imoen were finished with their fittings and both were wearing their first new outfits.

Imoen was beaming as she modeled her clothes in the mirror. The boots were a dark purple and reached almost to the knee. Silver laces up the front tied them together. Imoen's pants were a dark blue and inappropriately tight. Imoen's new blouse was silver to match the laces in her boots and draped down reaching her mid thigh and covering up the inappropriate trousers. It had long sleeves and buttons in the front and on each wrist. Over the blouse Imoen wore a well tailored pink vest.

"Now my dear, let me explain a few things about your clothes. The boots are sharkskin with soft leather soles and are lined with wolf's fur. They are waterproof, quiet on any surface and I guarantee they will survive a walk in the sewers should that happen again. The boots also have internal sheathes to hold a pair of your lovely knives as well. Your trousers are made of the softest leathers and will resist tearing and stains. Incidentally pants that tight are not appropriate for a women of quality. Not in the least."

Imoen smiled, hiked up her shirt, and wiggled her rear end in the mirror. "That may be true but these pants make me look spectacular."

Madame Clarisse chuckled and continued on. "I do understand child, I was young once myself. Your blouse is made from the strongest spider silk and is loose enough to cover those lovely protective bracers of yours. The small pockets in the shirt will allow you to store all of your spell components and have them readily accessible. I am particularly proud of the vest. It is made of a two layers of linen with a layer or shark shin in between. The sharkskin should turn an arrow or a knife from all but the strongest enemy. Your thief's tools can fit in the internal pocket in the small of the back. Your throwing knives are in these custom bandoliers that strap around your upper thighs. Your long blouse will cover them from prying eyes but leave them readily accessible.

"This is perfect, I love it." Imoen hopped down and hugged Madame Clarisse and then kissed her three daughters as she danced around the room.

"I am glad that you are pleased. I will have the remaining outfits delivered to the Elfsong within two days. They will be equally colorful per your requests. Right Jeral, your turn, up you go."

Jeral hopped up onto the box and eyed himself in the mirror. Madame Clarisse stood next to Jeral and eyed his attire critically in the mirror.

"Your requirements were frankly much easier to fulfill. The boots are black with hard soles. Black iron reinforces the tip of the boots and the heel giving you an additional weapon in a pinch. The electrum buckles on each side conceal your daggers. The pants are dark grey brushed leather and should hold up quiet well given your line of work. There are small pockets on each leg for storing a wand. As an aside, I am pleased that your pants are not nearly as tight as those of your sister."

Imoen snorted, "Trust me Madame Clarisse we all all happy about that."

"As I was saying. The belt is functional with a platinum buckle. You may wear your sword on it on those occasions like today when you are not wearing your armor. Your shirt is black linen with electrum buttons. The left sleeve is reinforced with sharkskin to protect the wrist from your archery. The vest is soft leather dyed scarlet with iron rings sewn into the interior lining for additional protection. There are interior pockets for your coin purse and spell components. Topping it all off here is your jacket. Black leather with scarlet buttons cut to reach mid thigh. It is oversized to allow you to wear it over your armor; however it will also look fine without your chain mail. There are interior pockets for you zink, throwing knives and any odds and ends you may have. And of course, it is treated to repel water, blood, and other worse fluids.

Jeral eyed himself in the mirror and fought down a smile. "Very well dome Madame Clarisse. I trust the payment was sufficient?"

"Yes, you are more than generous; the necklace will cover everything quite nicely. Your additional clothes will be delivered with Imoen's. One last thing Jeral, I think you look much better when you wear your hair back and let people see your face."

Jeral blushed and departed the shop with his sister after the pair thanks the shop keeper and her daughters profusely.

"Let's head back to the Elfsong and meet up with everyone else."

"Sounds good Jeral, I am famished. By the way, what is with all the black and red?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well you have never really favored red before; you have always favored blue or earthy colors."

"I am not sure Im. It just feels right. The color reminds me of blood. I have seen so much blood in the past three months and I am sure I will see much more in the near future."

"And the black?"

"Despair. In three short months I have lost my home, I have lost Gorion and I will likely not outlive the season. Besides black is really easy to keep clean so that is an added benefit."

"Well at least that is cheery, now I need a drink."

The pair continued walking in silence and returned to the tavern without incident. When they entered the crowded common room they discovered that their companions were already seated and waiting for them to return. Jeral and Imoen slid into the open chairs and Jeral noted that everyone had a long face.

"Heya everyone, check out the new clothes we have. That tailor is a genius; she even made Jeral look good." Imoen was greeted with four dark looks from the table, and quickly stopped talking and looked down at her hands.

"So glad the two of you could join us." Ajantis looked at the pair of newcomers, voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain.

"Squire Ajantis, we are all upset. However that does not excuse your rudeness, they played no part in today's fiasco."

Ajantis glared at Dynaheir and then blushed. "My apologies Dynaheir, you are correct I must maintain my proper bearing as a member of the Order and a disciple of Helm." Shifting his gaze to Jeral Ajantis took a deep breath and continued speaking.

"My apologies to the two of you for my rude manner. I am very upset for our visit with Scar today did not go as well as expected."

Jeral just sat quietly and waited for Ajantis to continue. For once Imoen also held her tongue, clearly unsettled by the frustration apparent at the table.

"We arrived at the Flaming Fist headquarters without incident. We asked for Captain Scar and were taken inside. When we went in we were introduced to a Captain Angelo. He is the other captain in the Flaming Fist and is Scar's equal. Nasty piece of work that one. He started in on us demanding to know what we were doing in the city."

"So what did you tell him?" Imoen asked, unable to stay silent any longer.

"I stated that we were directed to report only to Commander Eltan or Captain Scar else we would not be paid for our work."

"Since when do you care about money Ajantis?"

"I do not care about money Imoen, not in the slightest. But I have seen men like this Angelo; he understands little beyond money and power so I gave him a motivation he could understand."

"So what happened next?" Imoen leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table.

"Angelo started getting very upset that we would not talk to him. He threatened to arrest us all."

"So why are you not in jail?"

"Well we owe Minsc a debt thanks for our freedom." Ajantis smiled and Yeslick and Dynaheir chuckled.

Dynaheir leaned forward and smiled as she patted the ranger's forearm appreciatively.

"I can tell this part of the story. Angelo stated that the men would all rot in jail but he would keep me chained in his bedroom for his personal amusement."

"That sounds horrific Dynaheir; I fail to see the humor in that kind of a threat."

"Very true Imoen, I was starting to get concerned myself when faced with the prospects of serving as a harem girl for Angelo. Fortunately for all of us Minsc lost his temper. He grabbed Angelo by the scruff of the neck and started shaking him like a child's toy."

"Well done Minsc." Imoen beamed at Minsc and patted him on the shoulder. Minsc blushed shyly and looked down at his plate as Dynaheir continued the tale.

"Angelo started screaming his head off. Captain Scar heard the ruckus and found us in Angelo's office."

"Heh heh, and the row between the two of them was a sight to behold." Yeslick chuckled as he downed his mug of ale.

"I have seen many an argument in the Order and this put them all to shame. The pair was screaming at each other and looked ready to come to blows. Captain Scar finally had to threaten to kill Angelo then and there before he would leave the room. Once Angelo left Scar settled down and sat back to listen to our tale."

Jeral sat patiently, waiting for the rest of the story to come out. Clearly something had happened that did not go as planned. Jeral laid a restraining hand on Imoen's forearm. Snapping her mouth shut in frustration Imoen sat back in her chair and drained her wine glass as she impatiently waited for the tale to continue.

"Once Captain Scar calmed down we told him about our discoveries in the sewers and in the Seven Suns merchant house. He was very pleased with us. He called for lunch and ale and the five of us had a merry lunch. There was much toasting and celebrating."

"Ajantis speaks truly, Captain Scar was extremely interested to hear about the doppelgangers and he was convinced that he finally would have evidence of the Iron Throne's involvement. Unfortunately, after lunch things took a turn for the worse."

Imoen could no longer contain herself so she blurted out, "how could things take a turn for the worse? We completed both tasks, you reported back to Scar and only Scar and you broke bread with him. What could go wrong?"

The four companions looked to one another as if determining how to break the news to Jeral and Imoen. Finally Yeslick exhaled deeply and continued the tale.

"While we were eating Scar had sent out patrols to the sewers and the Seven Suns to confirm our reports."

"Ok, so they found a sewer full of dead carrion crawlers and a house full of corpses."

Shaking his head Yeslick tugged on his beard nervously. "Well that is what we expected them to find. But that is not what they did find. When the patrol reached the sewer they found exactly what we said they would find so Scar knows we completed that task. But when they got to the Seven Suns merchant house and searched it they found nothing."

"What do you mean nothing?" Jeral jumped to his feet and pounded his fist on the table. "That house reeked of death and decay and that was before we killed a nest of shape shifters."

"Calm yourself Jeral, you are getting as agitated as Imoen."

"Hey, you are supposed to be nice to your apprentice."

Dynaheir smiled warmly at Imoen. "My dear you have great magical potential inside of you and I am quite fond of you but good judgment and patience are not traits I as of yet associate with you. Now may we continue with our story?"

Jeral returned to his seat and he and Imoen crossed their arms and fumed silently as Dynaheir continued the story.

"One of the junior officers reported back to Scar and he relayed the findings to us. We protested quite vehemently. In fact Ajantis and Yeslick had to restrain Minsc from attacking the soldier, so great was his rage. Scar agreed to visit the house with us and a score of his most trusted soldiers."

"We returned to the house and entered it. The house was immaculate. There was not a spot of dust anywhere; the home was full of servants in the livery of Jhasso."

"Dynaheir, how is that possible? You Minsc and I all know what we saw. Even Boo know what we saw. Were you taken in by an illusion? Did Scar take you to the wrong house?"

"Don't insult me! Do you think I am a fool? Jeral, I am a mage of no small ability, there was no illusion and we were taken to the correct house. Someone or something cleaned the house and removed everything that was incriminating. They then sent in new servants and they played their part well."

"How is that possible? That house was a tomb, it smelled like death and there was blood and carnage everywhere."

"Jeral, with enough hands or enough magic anything is possible. Less than two score of my kin created the Cloakwood mines in less than ten years, neatening up a house would be child's play for someone with the proper resources and motivation. So the better question to ask is not how this was done but who has the ability to make it happen."

Minsc leapt to his feet and slammed a meaty hand down on the table. Cups tipped over and plates rattled as the entire table shuddered. A hush fell over the common room of the Elfsong as everyone stared at the large man, wondering if they were in danger.

"The time for talk is over. Now is the time for action. Minsc is not a smart man. Ever since I was little I have known that. But even a not smart man can understand this. We have faced an enemy that was attempting to create an iron crisis. At every turn we encounter the hand of the Iron Throne. So it becomes so simple that even I can make sense of it. We must destroy them to ever be free. So on the morrow I am going to wake up early, strap on my mail, heft Spiders Bane, have a hearty breakfast and then attack the Iron Throne." Minsc turned away and slowly headed to the stairs up to his room.

"Nice speech Minsc. How can we be sure someone is not pointing us in the wrong direction?"

Minsc smiled and looked back over his shoulder as he headed upstairs. "Ahhh that is the easy part little Imoen. Boo told me so."

"Oh great. So our brilliant plan is to attack a well regarded, powerful, highly defended merchant house because a miniature giant space hamster told Minsc that this was a good idea. Does anyone else think this is insane?"

"Minsc is my protector, where he goes I go. What other options remain to us? We know we are watched and followed at every turn so this is no longer the time for guile."

"Minsc is no paladin but there is great honor within that large man, on the morrow I will fight by his side. I feel that this is the noble path for us to follow."

"That man has the soul of a dwarf, my hammer will join him in combat tomorrow and the Gods will hear of our feats."

"Imoen, I want my life back and to get it I need to stop the people coming after us. Somewhere in the Iron Throne is the man who killed Gorion and he owes me a life. And when I find him, I am going to watch him die."

"Well I guess I should stick around to watch that, although if he is the monster you say he is then you are probably not going to do very well against him when the time comes. But either way I am in. I am off to bed. See you in the morning." With a deep sense of foreboding the party broke up and retired to their rooms.

Day 94

The scratching on the outdoor shutters was faint, almost imperceptible. Jeral only noticed it because he was not asleep. Worried about the raid on the Iron Throne in the morning Jeral could not sleep. He kept imaging himself watching all of his friends die in front of him as they were cut down one by one, their blood pooling into a lake on the floor. The faint scratching pulled him back to the present and Jeral focused his senses on the sounds by the window. Silently rolling his head to the side Jeral watched as a small metal wire slid into the gap between the shutters and quietly lifted the bar holding them shut. Jeral watched as the bar was silently lowered to the side and the shutters slowly swung open. Jeral noticed that someone had oiled the hinges to ensure they no longer squeaked when they moved. Jeral slid his hand quietly along the floor next to his bed searching for his sword he had placed there before going to bed.

His hand swept side to side but could not find his weapon. Before he could wonder what happened to it a man clad all in black appeared in the window. Jeral caught a glimmer of steel in the moonlight and launched himself at the window. Jeral caught the man perched on the window sill and slammed his arm violently into the window frame. The man cried out and dropped his throwing knife on the floor. Giving his attacker no chance to recover Jeral grabbed his head in both hands and wrenched violently. The man's neck broke with an audible snap and Jeral pushed him out of the window. His lifeless corpse fell into the street with a sickening thud. Breathing heavily Jeral's heart pounded in his chest as he looked out and found the street deserted as it was only a few hours before sunrise. Muttering to himself Jeral closed the shutters and rebarred them.

"Tisk tisk Jeral, you were a little unkind to Laufer just then. Still I suppose he asked for it by flashing a weapon at you. I did tell him to ensure he did not threaten you in any way. It is so hard to find people who know how to follow directions. This will serve as an excellent lesson to the others about the need to follow my instructions precicely."

Jeral threw himself to the floor, picked up the blade from the floor and pivoted to hurl the blade at the unknown assailant. A lantern on the table was quickly unshuttered and the room filled with light. A well dressed man was sitting at the table with his hands neatly folded on his lap. He smiled at Jeral and something about the man caused Jeral to pause with the blade held behind his head ready to throw.

"Ahhhh, do I see a flicker of recognition there Jeral? I beg of you I mean no harm. Please allow me a few moments of your time and then you may do with me what you will."

"If you mean no harm then why did he try to kill me?"

"A fair question. He had very clear orders to break into your room via the window at this very appointed time. While he did that I entered through the door. He was the distraction to cover my entry."

Without lowering the blade Jeral relaxed slightly. "Well he did his job well for I never heard a sound from the other side of the room."

Endar bowed his head and a slight smile crossed his lips. "I do pride myself on my talents. However his was the role of distraction only, he erred when he drew his blade and justly paid for his error with his life."

"Very well, that explains how you got in here but does not explain the why."

"As you wish. You may not recognize me but we have met before."

"I am sorry but you do not look familiar."

Jeral eyed the man carefully. He was short, thin and had grey hair that was cropped short. He wore dark brown breeches and a high necked long sleeve tunic made of the finest green velvet. He looked every inch the picture of a prosperous middle aged merchant or a member of the lesser nobility. Despite his outward non threatening appearance there was something dangerous about the man, almost like a snake coiled to strike.

"I am not surprised for I barely recognize myself. I cut quite the different figure since we last met. Perhaps this may help you remember me." The man slowly rolled up the dark green sleeves of his tunic and revealed two heavily scarred wrists. Jeral instantly recognized the scarring that results from an imprisonment in a pair of heavy iron shackles. Looking closely at the man recognition came flooding back and Jeral smiled.

"Endar Sai I presume? You are looking much better than when we parted ways at the Friendly Arm Inn."

"Two months of good food, a comfortable bed, my own clothes and the company of my guild members can work wonders on a man."

"So why are you here and what do you want?"

"I am here to help you with your Iron Throne problem."

"How did you know about that?"

Endar laughed delightedly and rocked back in his chair.

"My dear boy everyone knows about that. Since the moment you crossed the bridge into Baldur's Gate everyone who matters in this city has watched your actions with great interest. Last night's episode in the tavern did not make things any less conspicuous. You plan to raid the Iron Throne headquarters building tomorrow in your search for answers."

Jeral laid down the throwing knife on the table and slowly made his way over to the bed. Sitting down he eyed the thief carefully. "Fair enough we do plan to raid their headquarters tomorrow. What is that to you?"

"My good man, I owe the Iron Throne a debt of pain so I intend to help you hunt them for me."

"I am interested, keep talking." The conversation continued until dawn and when Endar Sai departed the room Jeral allowed himself a small smile. They might all survive the day after all.


	28. Chapter 28: The Raid

_Bondari – thanks for the comments and enjoy more Endar Sai in this chapter. _

Chapter 28 – The Raid – Day 94

"You allowed Imoen to leave with that cur? She could be in danger. Jeral, how could you be so foolish?"

Jeral swirled his tea around it the chipped mug and took a deep breath before responding to the irate paladin.

"That cur has a name as you well know. It is Endar Sai. If you recall we rescued him from the clutches of Tazok and his lackeys in the bandit camp a few months ago. He is no friend to the Iron Throne and he owes us his life. He claims to be a member of some influence in the thieves' guild here in the city and he has pledged to aid us in our fight with the Iron Throne. Imoen went with him to scout out the building and determine our best way in."

"How do we know we can trust him?"

Jeral drained his cup and smiled at the paladin as he continued. "It would be foolish to trust him completely, that much is true. However he could have killed me last night and he did not. We know he opposes the Iron Throne, and he is a member of the guild here in the city. Imoen was able to confirm that before she departed with him this morning."

"But letting Imoen go off on her own, someone should be with her to keep her safe."

"Ajantis, have you been asleep the past few months? Imoen may look harmless but don't let the pink hair, happy go lucky personality and gaudy clothes fool you. She has the heart of a killer. If Endar or any of his men get out of line they will get a knife in the heart before you can say 'Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart.'

The paladin stood at the table shaking with apparent frustration and anger. Tiring of the conversation Jeral plucked an apple from the fruit bowl on the table and headed back upstairs to his room.

"This conversation is over Ajantis. It is time for us to leave. Take any equipment you are leaving behind and drop it off with Dynaheir. She will ward her room to ensure our items are untouched until our return."

Even at the early morning hour the heat was already oppressive. Locals claimed it was the hottest summer in memory and Imoen believed them. Tucked in the back of a hay wagon did nothing to improve the situation. Imoen lay at the bottom of the wagon with Endar Sai next to her. Imoen stifled a sneeze and felt herself sweating through her clothes as she eyed the Iron Throne building. It was a massive structure, made entirely of black granite it stood close to one hundred feet tall. Two large Iron Throne banners draped down the front of the building flanking the massive iron doors that served as the entrance to the facility. The building was awe inspiring, imposing and darkly beautiful. The wealth and power of the Iron Throne was evident if the building was any indication. The Seven Suns compound looked pathetically inadequate and shabby in comparison.

Through whispered conversations Endar had provided Imoen with a detailed layout of the building. The building was five levels plus a basement. The meeting rooms and offices for the leadership of the Iron Throne were on the upper level. Reiltar lived in the headquarters and rarely left the building. Staircases were located on the western and eastern side of each floor. There were a pair of guardsmen located at the foot of every set of stairs and would not allow anyone to pass without the appropriate password. High ranking members of the Iron Throne were known to all the guards so they were allowed to pass unchallenged. Guards who failed at their duties were summarily killed.

According to Endar the Iron Throne had recently imported additional mercenaries to bolster their ranks. Two score of the mercenaries were posted in front of the entrance to the building. All were clad in well made black chain mail and black tunics without any adornment. Imoen recognized their attire as matching that of the men and the giant who attacked her in the Blushing Mermaid after the debacle in the sewers. Most of the men were armed with sword and shield while a handful were armed with crossbows. All of the men looked well trained and alert, these were not simple guards, they were highly trained mercenaries. Entrance through the front door would not be a simple matter.

"Well the front door looks like a bad idea."

"Indeed, your attacks on their organization have caused them to increase their security. These guardsmen were not here yesterday. You must be making them nervous."

"I guess everyone did hear Minsc when he said we were going to attack this place. And here we were all impressed that the thieves' guild had smoked us out."

"Rest assured, the guild has power, and some of that power will assist you and your companions on this day."

"Good to know. Say Endar, where are the city watch? We have been sitting in this foul smelling cart for hours and I have yet to see a single patrol from the Flaming Fist. Since this is one of the richest districts in the city I would expect to see a highly visible presence from the watch."

"You are very observant Imoen. Captain Angelo is responsible for security in this district and he ensures that the Flaming Fist does not interfere with the business of the Iron Throne. He and the Iron Throne have apparently come to some sort of arrangement."

"Does that mean he working for them?"

"It pains me to admit as much but I do not know. We have yet to come up with anything firm but it is clear that their interests appear to align. He keeps his men out of their business. We will not see any members of the Flaming Fist here today unless the situation becomes too much for him to ignore."

"So a raging battle in the street might attract the attention of the Flaming Fist."

"Perhaps."

"Do you have the men to aid us should we attack those men?"

"No. We are not willing to risk open war with the Iron Throne at this time. This is not the time and that is not our way."

"Ok so much for force. Can we bribe our way in?"

"Unlikely.

"And we are all too well known to try and bluff our way into the building."

"Correct."

"Well the front door is not terribly promising, what other options do we have?"

"There is a tunnel in the sewer that opens up in the basement of the Iron Throne building. The servants use it to dispose of kitchen waste and the privies all empty out there."

"Not a chance. I just got new boots so the sewer is out of the question for now. Not gonna happen. What else?"

Endar did not respond. Instead he gently rapped his hand against the bottom of the cart. His ring knocked against the wood and the drover cracked his whip and the ox cart slowly rolled down the street, away from the Iron Throne headquarters. After a short time the cart stopped and the drover softly whistled. Endar quickly stood up and helped Imoen to her feet. The two brushed themselves off and hopped down to the street. The cart was parked in a narrow alley and was completely hidden from the main thoroughfare. The drover handed a water skin to Endar. Proffering it to Imoen she declined. "You first."

"So little trust, how disappointing." Endar upstoppered the skin and drank deeply. Once finished he handed the skin to Imoen and she too drank deeply.

"Ok, so we now smell like a barn and we know we cannot get into the building through the door or through the sewers. What other options do we have?"

"There really is only one option left to us." Endar smiled as he stared at Imoen.

Imoen crossed her arms and fixed the thief with her sternest look. Despite her best efforts the pink hair did detract somewhat from the attempt at intimidation. "Well out with it then."

"Well we cannot go down and straight is out of the question. That leaves up. Only way in is from the roof. My sources indicate that the roof is lightly guarded. Please follow me."

"Wait, what? The roof? That is over a hundred feet up. Can you fly? I sure can't. And scaling up that monstrous building in broad daylight looks suicidal."

"Patience my dear and follow me."

Endar entered a home through an open doorway. The occupants were nowhere in sight and Endar quickly strode through the house and ducked through a hole that was open in the far wall. He strode through a second house and then a third, all in similar fashion. Ducking through yet another hole Endar led Imoen into a large building that was clearly a warehouse of some sort.

"This warehouse belongs to a trader of some note in Baldur's Gate. It stands right behind the Flaming Fist compound. He was encouraged to pull his guards back from it for the day so we will not be disturbed."

Endar swiftly walked to the side of the warehouse and took the stairs up two at a time. Imoen followed as quickly as she could. Reaching the roof Endar opened the door and motioned for Imoen to follow. The roof of the warehouse was made of stout timbers and had a small ledge that surrounded the roof. Endar pointed to the west and Imoen started at the rear of the Flaming Fist compound. From the elevated position on the room Imoen could see that they were still about eighty feet below the roof of the building. Endar walked to the edge of the roof and motioned Imoen over.

"As you can see the alley is deserted. I have associates monitoring both ends of the alley and redirecting those who get too close. We should be able to work unobserved from this side of the building. Since there is no rear door to the building they see no need to position guards in the alley. We should be able to work without interruption and make our way to the top."

"Sure, unless someone sees us from the roof."

"You could not be more right about that my dear. And that is where your brother and his wonderful long bow come in. I have heard great tales about his skills as an archer. Today is the day we will determine if those tales are true. Let us go back inside and away from any prying eyes and await your companions."

"How will they know where to find us?"

"I sent one of my associates off to find them some time ago. They should be here presently."

Endar Sai's sense of timing was impeccable for Jeral and the others strolled into the warehouse after a short wait. Leading the way was a handsome young man with close cropped black hair and a crooked smile. He wore a set of well worn leather armor, thigh high boots and wore a bandolier of darts around his chest and a small dagger at his belt. Imoen found him extremely interesting.

"Ahhhhhhh, well done Niklos. Jeral it is lovely to see you again in daylight. I see you have replaced the lovely dark elf with a dwarf. While I am sure he is an excellent traveling companion the group has lost some of its luster."

"We had no need of her darkness for we are on a noble quest." Ajantis stepped forward and sneered at the master thief.

"And yet you consort with thieves. Seems to me that your rigid morality has at least some flexibility. How refreshing."

Ajantis scowled at the older man and stomped away.

"Not to be rude Endar but why have you brought us here?"

"Right to the point then. Jeral I will give you credit for your ability to get to the point of the matter. No messing around with you. You need to get inside the Iron Throne compound and I plan to assist you. Imoen and I have extensively scouted the building. The front door is heavily guarded and the sewers are not a viable option. When one cannot go down or straight ahead then one must take the only remaining path."

"Up, Jeral. Endar means that we have to go up."

"Imoen, look at us. We have three plate clad warriors amongst our number. How do we scale a building?"

"Well you lot do not scale anything, you are rubbish at climbing. Endar and I scale the building. Once at the top we lower a rope and then you all climb up. Or get pulled up if need be."

"You will be seen."

"Not a concern. Endar's folks have cleared the street and this building is next door to the back of the Iron Throne."

"Ok fair enough. But it will take you some time for you to scale the building, if you even can. While you are on the wall you will be helpless should anyone on the roof attack."

"Jeral, you see with clarity beyond your years. While we are climbing up the wall and helpless you and that lovely bow of yours will have to protect us from harm. If you can perform that simple task then Imoen and I will gain the roof without any issue."

"I wish to accompany you." Niklos stepped forward and bowed his head in front of his elder. The older thief seemed lost in thought as he considered the request. After a long pause he nodded slightly and Niklos clapped his hands together with glee.

"Very well, we shall go and start climbing the wall. I would request that you move to the roof and watch the roof top of the Iron Throne building. Should anyone see us I would be extremely grateful if you could discourage them from accosting us."

Jeral located the stairs on the back wall of the warehouse and quickly took them up to the roof. The Iron Throne building loomed dark and foreboding a dozen feet away. The narrow alley was all that separated the warehouse from the rear of the building. Jeral craned his neck up to eye the top of the ebony building. The morning sun was blocked by the building so Jeral did not have to contend with any glare. Anyone on the roof would give away their position by their shadow long before they reached the edge of the roof. Jeral leaned over the edge and looked down at the three as they prepared for their climb. The trio was sliding on gloves with small metal hooks embedded across their surface. They had already strapped on climbing spikes to their boots. The spikes and clawed gloves would allow them to gain purchase on the smooth stone walls of the building as they climbed. Jeral realized with a start that if they slipped there was nothing to arrest their fall but the soiled cobblestones of the alley below. One slip and someone would probably die.

Endar led off the climb. Reaching up on the wall his gloves dug into the black stone and he started his climb. Despite his age he moved effortlessly up the wall. Imoen and Niklos struggled to match his pace and quickly fell behind. Jeral forced himself to step back from the edge and watch the top of the building to ensure no guards noticed their ascent. Nocking an arrow of ice Jeral held his long bow at the ready as he craned his next upwards. Time seemed to stand still as he eyed the rooftop. Stealing glances downwards he watched transfixed as the three steadily made progress up the wall. Endar led them on a path upwards that steered well clear of all the windows to ensure they were not detected by any within the house. Each strike of the climbing spikes dislodged small chunks of stone that fell to the street below.

Jeral laughed as he realized that the climbers were badly scarring the flawless wall of the building. '_If nothing else we will make the Iron Throne spend a fortune to repair their building_.'

"Jeral, someone is approaching!"

Dynaheir's voice started Jeral back to the present and he scanned the rooftop. He quickly spied the shadow and Dynaheir was correct, someone was approaching the edge of the roof. The guard casually walked to the edge of the roof top, inhaled deeply, spit over the side and stretched. He was clad in well made black chain mail that was identical to the mercenaries at the front of the building. A short sword hung from his belt and he held a trident is his right hand. Jeral lifted his bow and quickly loosed his arrow.

Jeral intentionally aimed at the man's stomach to ensure that he fell off the roof after he was stuck. Jeral's aim was true and the enchanted arrow sped home and stuck the man in the stomach. The enchantment from the arrow froze the man's innards solid, silencing any cry before it could escape his lips. Soundlessly he pitched forward, toppled over the low battlement and plunged to the alley below where he struck wetly on the cobblestones. Jeral stole a quick glance and was relieved to see that all three climbers were more than halfway up the building.

Motion in the alley drew Jeral's attention and he noticed Minsc and Ajantis dragging the corpse into the warehouse while Yeslick spread straw over the worst of the blood and gore to mask it from casual observation. Jeral quickly resumed his over watch and eyed the rooftop nervously as he held his long bow at the ready. Jeral tensed as he noticed a pair of shadows quickly approaching the edge of the roof. Where the first guard was relaxed and inattentive this pair was clearly wary and ready for any threat as they looked for their absent colleague. The pair was clad in black chain mail; one carried a crossbow while the other carried a small round shield and rested his hand on the pommel of the long sword hanging from his belt. The one with the shield cautiously approached the edge of the roof and leaned out over the battlement. He looked down and quickly jumped as he spied the trio of climbers on the wall. Snapping his fingers to get the crossbow man's attention he pointed out the climbers.

Before the crossbow man could sight in an arrow buried itself in the man's chest and a puff of frigid air escaped his lips as he back onto the rooftop dead. Reacting to the new threat the swordsman drew his blade and turned to face Jeral, shield held at the ready to intercept any arrow fired at him. So focused on the far threat the man forgot about the climbers on the wall. He was reminded of their presence when a silver throwing knife buried itself in his right leg. Bellowing in pain his screams were cut short when a second knife and then an arrow buried themselves in his chest. The guard fell backwards onto the rooftop and was lost from Jeral's sight.

Jeral watched transfixed as Endar clambered up and scrambled over the low battlement on the roof. Looking down he smiled wolfishly at Jeral and then drew a pair of long fighting knives from leg sheaths. Jeral was horrified to see over a half dozen shadows approaching Endar. Apparently the roof was better defended than they expected. The sound of blades clashing filled the air as Jeral stood helplessly and waited for a target to appear. Imoen regained the roof shortly after Endar did. Imoen rolled onto the roof and started throwing knives at unseen targets.

Niklos gained the roof seconds after Imoen and uncoiled a knotted rope from around his shoulders. Affixing it firmly to the roof he dropped the remainder of the rope off the side of the building. He then rose to his feet and started hurling darts at targets that Jeral could not see from his position.

"Dynaheir, tell Minsc to get up that rope now. Once he is up Ajantis can follow. I will remain here in case any targets make themselves available."

Dynaheir nodded and raced downstairs, concern for her apprentice etched on her face. Jeral stared at the rooftop as he scanned for targets. The sight of Minsc walking up the side of the building pulled Jeral's view from the rooftop. Jeral watched transfixed as Minsc strode up the wall, steadily pulling hand over hand on the rope as he walked up the wall. His massive frame and incredibly heavy suit of full plate mail seemed to not hinder the ranger at all as he quickly ascended to the rooftop. Clambering over the battlement Minsc stood, drew Spiders Bane and strode out of sight. Jeral headed downstairs to wait his turn on the rope.

Ajantis worked steadily as he made his way up the rope. His ankheg plate was far lighter than that worn by Minsc but it was still sufficiently heavy to make the climb a struggle for the squire. Jeral chuckled to himself when he realized that the enchanted boots the paladin wore did nothing to help him climb the rope. Once Ajantis reached the top Dynaheir grasped the rope firmly and made her way quickly to the top. Despite dedicating her life to the arcane Dynaheir had obviously not allowed her body to atrophy, she had the agility and coordination of an acrobat. Once she was at the top Jeral looked at Yeslick and was surprised to see the dwarf looking pale and nervous.

"Are you well master dwarf?"

"I am ashamed to admit it Jeral but I cannot climb that rope."

"Why not Yeslick? I have seen you fight and there is great strength in you."

"If it were something so simple. Lack of strength I could accept, this is a matter of lack of courage. I am scared of heights, always have been since I was a wee lad. There is no way I can ascend this wall."

"Yeslick, we will need you by our side when we enter the building. Not only are you a powerful warrior but you are the only healer in our group. Without you by our side we risk losing a companion before they could be brought down here to you."

The dwarf looked Jeral in the eyes and nodded gravely.

"I understand that Jeral and I do not make this claim lightly. I cannot go up that wall."

Jeral fought back a sarcastic comment as he stared at the crestfallen draft. Yeslick's chin quivered under his beard as he fought to hold back the tears of shame and frustration. Jeral clapped the cleric on the shoulders and slung his longbow across his back. Tugging on the rope to ensure it was secure Jeral prepared to climb. A tug on his belt forced him to look back at Yeslick.

The dwarf handed Jeral a heavily padded bag with a wide shoulder strap. "Jeral, even though I cannot join you take these healing potions along. Pour some on the wound to stop the bleeding and then make the injured person drink one or more down until their wounds are closed. That should keep them alive until you can get them to me."

Jeral nodded, slung the bag over his shoulder and started to climb up the rope. As Jeral steadily climbed up the wall his mind wandered back to his time at Candlekeep. Imoen loved to climb and would take Jeral on adventures all over the fortress. She loved making him climb at night and often in the rain. The more dangerous the climb the happier Imoen was. Jeral considered himself a fair climber but he knew that Imoen could put him to shame and she never passed up the opportunity to belittle his climbing skills. Jeral could not count the number of occasions when he had fallen or become stuck and Imoen had to rescue him by lowering a rope.

Jeral reached the top without incident. He waved once to the forlorn dwarf in the alley below and hoisted himself over the low battlement and onto the roof of the Iron Throne headquarters. What greeted his eyes was a scene of absolute carnage. Black clad guardsmen were strewn everywhere across the blood slicked roof. Jeral counted almost two dozen corpses on the rooftop. Darts and throwing knives littered the ground and had clearly cut down a significant number of the guardsmen. Endar Sai was standing in front of a pile of corpses breathing heavily, blood and gore dripping off his curved fighting knives. Ajantis, flanked by Minsc, stood guard next to the door that led down to the upper floor of the building.

Dynaheir and Imoen were off to the side kneeling over the prone body of Niklos. The young thief was struggling to breathe and blood frothed from his lips. Jeral quickly joined Imoen and Dynaheir and took in the scene before him. Niklos was suffering from a number of wounds. Deep cuts on his arm and shoulder showed where a swordsman had found his mark. The wound in his stomach was the one that was the real danger.

"The fool took a spear thrust trying to protect me. Where is Yeslick? Niklos needs his healing immediately else he may die." The plaintive look in Imoen's eye showed that she was fond of this boy she had just met and that she did not want him to die.

"Yeslick is down in the alley ensuring we have a way to escape when the time comes." The lie came easily to Jeral for he did not want the others to know of Yeslick's fear. "Move aside, I may be able to keep him alive."

"Jeral, you are not a healer, we need Yeslick."

"Yeslick is not here, either I save him or he dies. Move aside both of you, I need room to work."

Jeral leaned over the body and ran his hands over the life threatening stomach wound. Focusing on the wound Jeral willed it to close. A shiver ran through his body as his hands pulsed with energy and he could feel the stomach wound start closing itself from the inside out. Jeral shuddered once and sat back on his haunches. Some color returned to the boy's face and he took a deep breath. Jeral unstoppered a healing potion and drizzled it over the boy's wounds. He opened a second and held it to the boy's lips. As Niklos unsteadily gulped it down Jeral watched as the wounds on his shoulder and arm both started to close themselves up. With the lad out of danger Jeral bound his wounds with strips of uniform tunic from the corpses strewn over the roof. Niklos succumbed to the pain and fatigue and passed out. Jeral stood up and wiped the blood off on his pants. Smiling when he realized the new black pants would not show the blood stains Jeral turned to face Imoen.

"So what happened up here?"

"What didn't happen? Thanks to you and Endar we reached the top of the roof safely. When we got there we saw guardsmen pouring up the stairs to the roof. Endar charged into the mass of guards and was just a blur. He is faster with a blade than anyone I have ever seen. He kept them back while Niklos and I threw everything we had at them. The three of us probably killed a half score of them before a pair of them broke away from Endar and charged me. Before I could deal with them Niklos threw me to the ground and jumped in front of the pair. Stupid kid took on two heavily armed mercenaries with only a dagger."

"He is lucky to be alive Imoen."

"Yeah, thanks to you. Anyway Niklos fell back on top of me, I thought he was dead. I was stuck underneath him, I thought I was a goner but that was when Minsc reached the top of the roof and he took care of the two attackers in an instant. He then joined up with Endar and the two of them killed the rest of the guardsmen."

"How is Niklos? Please tell me he lives." Endar strode up to stand beside Imoen and Jeral. His blood spattered face etched with concern. Tears in his tunic showed glimmers of a fine steel mesh armor that Endar wore under his clothes.

"He lives Endar. He was wounded pretty badly but Jeral kept him alive."

Relief flooded over Endar's features when he heard the news. Reaching out he clasped Jeral's forearm firmly and smiled. "It seems I am to be in your debt yet again. First you and your friends save me from a fate worse than death and now you have saved my son's life."

"Son?" Imoen and Jeral echoed in unison. Imoen continued one she recovered from the shock. "I thought he is your apprentice."

"Imoen, he is my apprentice, he is also my son. However, very few know of that fact and I would appreciate your discretion in the matter. Should his relationship with me become widely known it would place him in terrible danger for my enemies would use him to get to me."

"Your secret is safe with us."

"I thank you my lady."

"Endar, we cannot stay up on this roof forever. They must know we are here."

"You are correct Jeral, they know we are here so we must leave as soon as we can."

"What do you know of the building?"

"The upper floor is the meeting room and private offices of all the Iron Throne leadership. The stairs descend into the great hall and offices line the walls on the north and south sides of the room while the east and west walls end in the windows that overlook the entry way and the back alley. If Reiltar is anywhere he will be on this floor."

"Jeral, I can hear the guards organizing downstairs. They are massing for an attack. Whatever we are to do we should do it quickly."

"One sec Ajantis."

Thinking quickly Jeral walked over and whispered in Dynaheir's ear. Smiling she nodded once and started casting. Jeral walked over to stand next to Ajantis and Minsc and motioned Endar to join them. Dynaheir completed her casting and a familiar tingling sensation spread through Jeral's body. From the looks on the faces of his companions Dynaheir's haste spell had worked on them as well.

"Once Dynaheir completes her next spell we attack. We need to fight our way out of this building. Dynaheir and Imoen will use the time to get Niklos to safety down the rope. We will all meet back at the Elfsong."

"Jeral, this is madness."

"Do not fear good paladin. We do great things today. Boo says today is not our day to die."

Minsc upstoppered a vial and swapped down a vicious red liquid. As the potion took effect Minsc gripped his massive war blade and prepared himself for battle. Dynaheir completed her second spell and the familiar small ball of flame grew steadily in intensity as she molded it in her hands. Releasing it she directed it down the stairs. The sounds of men tripping over one another was soon replaced by the sounds of screams and sizzling flesh as the fireball grew in size and intensity. Dynaheir continued to chant and focus her energies on the spell as the screams below got louder and louder. The air started getting difficult to breath and Jeral broke out in a sweat. Dynaheir clapped her hands together loudly and her fireball exploded with an ear shattering blast as every window on the floor below shattered outwards, showering the street with glass. The rooftop shuddered as the blast wave struck. Dynaheir's body sagged from exhaustion and she slowly made her way back to Imoen and wearily dropped to her knees.

Roaring a Rashemi battle cry Minsc took off down the stairs. Ajantis followed closely behind the ranger muttering to himself. Endar and Jeral looked at one another.

"Ahhhh this kind of wanton bloody combat reminds me of my younger and far less intelligent days. Lead on Jeral for we have much blood ahead of us before this day ends."

Jeral nocked an arrow and raced down the stairs after Ajantis and Minsc. Jeral descended into a great meeting room. Rich tapestries and plush furniture were strewn everywhere in piles of smoldering wreckage. Scorch marks from Dynaheir's magic showed that nothing in the room escaped unscathed. A score or more of bodies lay on the floor in charred heaps of flesh, metal and bone. The stench of death was overpowering and Jeral fought back the urge to empty his stomach on the floor.

"Minsc, search the rooms along that wall. Endar and I will search the rooms on this one. Ajantis, watch the stairs and warn us if others approach."

Endar walked directly to an ornate door on the right side of the wall of offices.

"These are Reiltar's private chamber. As head of the Iron Throne in Baldur's Gate he is the one you want."

Taking no chances Endar quickly checked the door for traps, picked the lock and entered the room. The minute he opened the ornate door a piercing scream penetrated the air.

"He has the room warded with a magic mouth enchantment."

"Jeral, I am not too concerned for I think they have already noticed our presence in the building." Endar expertly searched the room and approached Jeral with his arms full of documents and other odds and ends.

Reiltar is not here. He went to a meeting in Candlekeep. He departed two days ago. He is meeting with representatives from the Iron Throne in Sembia from the looks of this invitation. Endar handed over the ornate invitation and Jeral tucked it into his jacket.

Jeral realized with a start that his pursuit was bringing him home. The thought of returning to Candlekeep filled him with overwhelming sadness. Everything there reminded him of Gorion and Gorion was dead, killed by the giant warrior and the Iron Throne. "What else do you have there Endar?"

"Well this is a copy of Reiltar's business holdings. With this I can start taking his organization apart piece by piece." Endar tossed Jeral a small pouch. Jeral caught it with his left hand and was surprised at its weight.

"Looks like that is some of Reiltar's emergency funds. That sack is full of diamonds and rubies, good ones too. That should fund you and your companions for some time."

Jeral tucked the pouch into an inner pocket in his jacket and turned to rejoin Ajantis.

"Minsc, Ajantis. Time to leave, our quarry is not here."

"What makes you think you will be able to leave? You have crossed the Iron Throne and death will be your reward." The commanding voice echoed through the room.

Jeral whirled around and watched as a half dozen well equipped men strode out the door of one of the meeting rooms on the far wall. In the lead were four men all armored in plate mail. One carried a halberd, one a mace, one a war hammer and one a black long bow. Behind the four plate clad warriors stood a pair of mages in silk robes gilded in silver and mother of pearl inlay.

Without thinking Jeral launched a flame arrow at one of the mages while Endar hurled a pair of throwing knives at the other one. Their magically enhanced speed ensured that they struck first. All three missiles struck home and both mages fell to the floor. Minsc and Ajantis charged the four plate clad warriors. The archer loosed an arrow at Ajantis but the paladin managed to twist out of the way of the arrow as he charged forward. The arrow struck the far wall and exploded, blasting a hole in the wall and causing the entire building to shudder.

'_That is an arrow of detonation!'_

Jeral had read about the incredibly powerful enchanted arrows but never seen one in action until now.

Ajantis closed with the archer and forced him to drop his bow and draw a short sword to defend himself. Minsc charged into the front rank of men and drove them back. With his strength enhanced by a magic elixir he was a sight to behold. His first swing sliced through the attempted parry with the halberd and cut deeply into the man's shoulder. The man screamed in pain and crumpled to the floor as Minsc moved onto his next target leaving death in his wake. Endar drew his fighting knives and moved forward to assist Minsc and Ajantis in finishing off the fighters. The three remaining fighters were terribly outmatched by a paladin, ranger and master thief.

Out of the corner of his eye Jeral noticed that one of the mages still lived. The man was horribly burned from Jeral's arrow but held up a wand in a trembling hand and pointed it at Jeral. Jeral hastily aimed in and fired an arrow at the downed mage. Before the arrow struck home the mage uttered a word of command and the tip of the wand flashed brightly. Jeral tensed in anticipation of magic striking his body but then relaxed when nothing happened. He watched as his second arrow struck the mage in the face and he fell back, the wand slipping from his lifeless hand.

'_Nothing happened? I wonder what that wand does?'_

Jeral nocked another arrow and searched for targets. Minsc had sliced his opponent in half and Endar and Ajantis had their opponents wholly on the defensive. Jeral was so focused on the fight in front of him he never noticed the halberd blade until it struck him in the center of his back. The force of the blow drove Jeral to the floor and his long bow dropped from his hands and skittered away on the stone floor. The pair was excruciating and Jeral struggled to avoid passing out. Jeral fought through the waves of pain and rolled onto his back. He found himself staring up at a half dozen heavily armed gnolls.

Jeral scrabbled away from the beasts as quickly as he could as they steadily advanced. The creatures eyed him hungrily as they closed on him. Jeral attempted to cry for help but could not make himself speak, his body temporarily overcome by pain and fear.

"DOG BEASTS MUST DIE! GO FOR THE EYES BOO!"

Minsc roared in anger as he charged into his hated foes. Jeral noted that Minsc was nearly as tall as the gnolls and fought with such ferocity that he seemed equally feral as the beasts themselves. While they were fierce creatures they were little challenge to a plate clad warrior with a heavily enchanted blade and magically enhanced strength and speed. Jeral watched one gnoll after the other quickly fell to the floor in pieces. Jeral started with surprise as he noticed each creature wink out of existence as it died. '_That has to be a wand of gnoll summoning_.' After Minsc killed the final creature he leaned on his sword and stood breathing heavily and sweating from the exertion. Jeral unsteadily got to his feet and reached back between his shoulders to check on his wound. His jacket was sliced through. The chain links underneath were intact, his enchanted chain mail had turned away the halberd blade and likely saved him life. Jeral unstoppered a healing potion and drank greedily. The pain lessened and settled to a dull ache. Jeral tossed the empty potion bottle to the floor and looked at the others.

"Well that was exciting. Give me a minute to search the bodies and we can continue on our way."

Jeral quickly walked amongst the bodies and grabbed a few items of interest. The quiver contained 19 arrows of detonation. Jeral smiled as he slid them into his own quiver. He also took the wand from the mage knowing that he could put it to good use. He grabbed assorted rings, scrolls and potion vials, tossing all of them into his pouch for further examination later.

Ajantis led the way down to the fourth floor. The floor was deserted; anyone there had clearly departed in haste fleeing from the battle above. The third floor and the second floor were equally deserted. Jeral headed to the windows overlooking the square and looked outside. There were hundreds of bystanders gawking and pointing at the building. The guardsmen out front had formed into a defensive square with the crossbowmen and their leader in the center of the square. They were clearly ready to defend their location from threats inside or outside the building.

"Well the guards are still out front, so much for calmly walking out the door. Dynaheir's spell has worn off so there is no chance to outrun everyone."

"The building looks deserted. Everyone else must have fled through the sewers. If we try and escape that way we cannot know who or what we will encounter. We must leave through the front door, there is no other way." Endar cleaned his knives with a rag as he contemplated their one final fight before they could escape the building.

"We will be hard pressed for we are four and they are ten times our number. Minsc is fatigued and Jeral is wounded."

"Ajantis, your words have wisdom, but what choice do we have? I wish to return to my guild and my son, but those men stand in our way."

"Hold on now. I think I can help smooth our way a bit. Follow me." Smiling Jeral led them group downstairs. The first floor was as deserted as all the others. The massive doors at the front of the building were built of wood and reinforced with iron and barred from the inside.

Flanking the door were ornate windows that extended to the ceiling. Each was heavily barred with black iron bars as thick as a man's arm.

Jeral pulled an arrow from his quiver and held it out to the others.

"This is an arrow of detonation. One of these blew a hole in the wall upstairs when that archer attacked Ajantis and missed. Arrows like these are incredibly rare and very powerful. These are likely the only arrows of this type in all of Baldur's Gate."

Ajantis blanched at the realization that he narrowly escaped death.

I am going to fire a couple of these at the door and then at the guards outside. That should blast the doors out of the way and also break their ranks allowing us the chance to cut through them."

"Once on the other side follow me and I will take you to one of my safe houses. Your companions should be waiting for us there with my son." Smiling wolfishly Endar saluted each of the three accompanying him. "It has been my pleasure to fight by your side. I spend so much time dealing with unsavory characters that it is a refreshing change to have men of character at my side."

"When one chooses to be a thief one spends their life dealing with scum."

"And the paladin ends the moment of good feeling. Ajantis we need to teach you to mind your tongue."

"Jeral, I have taken a vow to enforce the law and to speak the truth. We are currently allied with thieves. Was it not for us fighting a greater evil I would likely find Endar to be my enemy."

"Fair enough Ajantis, your displeasure is noted. Everyone stand back. Do not charge until I give the signal."

Jeral backed away from the double doors and slowly drew back an arrow of detonation. Exhaling to calm himself he loosed the arrow and quickly drew and nocked another. As the first arrow struck the double doors they exploded outwards in a spray of wood and iron. Jeral caught a glimpse of the defensive square formation though the blast and quickly loosed a second arrow into the soldiers midst. The second arrow struck a crossbowman in the shoulder and detonated. The man disappeared in a pink mist and bits of armor, blood and bone sprayed all over his fellow mercenaries. Jeral aimed his third arrow at the ground in front of the square and let it fly. He quickly slung his long bow over his shoulder and drew his short sword. The third arrow struck the ground at the feet of the soldiers closest to the building. The explosion carried outwards and blasted a hole in the wall of soldiers.

Jeral charged into the melee confident that the others were close behind. Ajantis raced ahead carried along by his speed enhancing boots. The paladin shield punched a dazed guard on the left and ran the mercenary commander through with a strike to the stomach. Jeral, Endar and Minsc followed the paladin into the gap he created and hacked their way through. The mercenaries were dazed and recovering from the three exploding arrows. Distracted as they were the four were able to hack their way through the mass of soldiers and cur through the other side of the formation.

"Follow me." Endar sheathed his fighting knives and sprinted across the square, twisting and turning to avoid bowling over gawking bystanders filling the square. Ajantis was immediately at his side and Minsc and Jeral followed closely behind. Once through the square Endar led them down an alley. At the end of the alley they climbed through a window into a house. The house was currently unoccupied. Endar found a basin of water in the kitchen, grabbed a few rags, and wiped the worst of the blood and gore from his face, arms and clothing. Taking his lead the others did the same. After a few moments they all looked almost presentable.

"Right. From here we walk slowly and casually. We are just four mercenaries out for a stroll. Endar opened the front door of the house and the four exited into the bright sunshine. Jeral was tense and fought the urge to nervously look around as Endar casually led them on a twisting path through the city. Entering the docks district Endar headed to a decrepit looking shack at the foot of a rundown pier. Endar held the door open and motioned the other three to enter. Once in the room he shut the door behind them, lifted a heavily soiled carpet from the floor, and opened a trapdoor. A ladder led down and the smell of cooking and the sound of laughter washed over the party.

The four descended and found themselves in a large room. A well equipped kitchen stood in the corner and comfortable chairs and tapestries lined each wall. Thick carpets covered the floor and the entire room looked clean and inviting. Jeral was thrilled to see Dynaheir and Yeslick chatting with an overweight woman wearing an apron. Plates overflowing with fresh bread, roasted chicken, cheese and onions were strewn across the table. Yeslick was leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach contentedly as he picked bits of chicken out of his beard.

"Ahhhhh I see that Marion is taking excellent care of our guests."

"What took you lot so long? We started without you." Yeslick beamed and held up a tankard of ale.

"Getting out was a bit more complicated than getting in."

Yeslick nodded sagely, "That is often the case Jeral, often the case. No mater you are all here now. Let us drink and eat and celebrate the destruction of the Iron Throne."

"Master dwarf, the Iron Throne still stands. While we thoroughly damaged their headquarters building in Baldur's gate the leadership was not present. Buildings can be repaired, hirelings can be replaced. Our work is not yet done." Ajantis glumly removed his helmet and shield and sat down heavily at the table.

"So where are the leaders?" Dynaheir asked quietly as she eyed Jeral.

"Candlekeep. We found documents that indicate that they are attending a meeting there. Reiltar and the others apparently left two days ago for the city. That is where we must go next."

"Assuming we can get out of the city without the Flaming Fist arresting us how can we enter Candlekeep? The magics protecting that place are well known and incredibly powerful. The only way into the castle is through the donation of a book to their library."

Jeral smiled for the first time that day. "We have that covered. I took a few priceless tomes from Jhasso's library. One of them will be sufficient to grant us entry to the city."

"Well that is a start Jeral. But how can we get out of the city? And can we get there in time before Reiltar departs?"

"My dear lady mage, I believe I can aid you and your companions. I have access to a fast ship and a loyal crew. They could carry you safely out of the city and down the coast to Candlekeep. They would also wait there for your return and take you anywhere you wish after that."

"That is very generous of you Endar, you have our thanks."

"Jeral, can we trust this cur to carry us where we need to go? How can we be sure that he will not kill us at the first opportunity?"

"Ajantis, you are quickly becoming tiresome. Endar has aided us in our efforts and I for one trust him with my life."

"Well Jeral your poor judgment and affinity for creatures of darkness is well known."

Jeral glared at the paladin and felt the rage building in his chest. His hand slowly moved to the pommel of his sword. Ajantis noticed the movement and slowly slid his chair away from the table. Endar placed a calming hand on Jeral's forearm and stepped between the two men.

"Good Helmite, you are fortunate that I am a patient man for your lack of faith is somewhat disturbing. In my younger days I would have taken offense and things may have gone badly for you. However, in my advancing years I have learned patience. So I will say this once and only once. If you elect not to trust me so be it, but know this, I too am an enemy of the Iron Throne so we have common cause. I will also send my son along with you on the ship as your guest. Should anything untold happen to you his life will be in your hands. That should serve to put your mind at ease."

Ajantis folded his arms and grimly nodded his acceptance of Endar's terms.

"But know this master paladin, insult me again in my home and I will kill you. You have watched me fight enough to know that I am more than a match for you. I will fight a duel with you at any time and rest assured, if we duel you will not survive." Lightening up his tone considerably he continued. "But I digress. Please make yourselves comfortable. I will make the necessary arrangements and you will leave on the morning tide. You will reach Candlekeep close on the heels of Reiltar and his companions. Excuse me."

Turning on a heel Endar headed up the ladder and departed.

Jeral forced himself to look away from Ajantis and sit down.

"Excuse me dearie, I can mend your coat for you if you wish." Jeral looked up into the smiling matronly face of the cook.

"That would be very nice, thank you." Jeral stood up and removed his coat and handed it over to the cook. She folded it over her arm and walked down a hallway.

Jeral stood, stretched and pulled his chain mail tunic off over his head. Laying it over a chair he stretched and felt the dull ache in his back. "Hey where is Imoen?"

"She is tending to Niklos."

"Didn't Yeslick heal his wounds?"

"Of course I did, although Dynaheir says that you somehow managed some healing magic of your own."

Jeral looked at the floor unwilling to lie to the dwarf and Dynaheir. A silence hung over the room, broken only by the sounds of Minsc wolfing down chicken and bread.

The sound of Imoen giggling carried through a doorway down the hall. The sound of continued giggling was followed by other sounds that caused everyone in the room to blush and pretend that they were not listening to Imoen and Niklos introduced themselves to one another. The question about Jeral's healing ability was quickly forgotten.

"Boo says Imoen is making herself comfortable."

Jeral, Yeslick and Dynaheir all burst out into laughter at the comment while Ajantis just looked offended.

Jeral wiped a team from his eye as he looked at Minsc and smiled. "My thanks my friend. I have not laughed like that in some time. I needed that."

"Minsc is glad that Jeral is happy but Minsc does not understand what Boo said."

That caused an additional round of laughter as Minsc just looked confused.


	29. Chapter 29: Candlekeep

Chapter 29 – Candlekeep – Day 96

Endar was as good as his word. A small galley had arrived at the pier in the dead of night. Niklos joined the six in clambering on board the ship. Once there they went below decks and the ship left with the morning pre dawn tide. Stopped by the harbor master Jeral heard money change hands and the ship was allowed out into the river. The day passed quickly as the ship glided downstream, the rowers working steadily to add their speed to that of the current. Once in the open ocean the captain hoisted the square black sail and pointed the bow of the ship southward. Skirting the coast the ship reached Candlekeep in the early morning of the following day.

At first light Jeral and his friends found themselves in a small skiff crewed by four sailors. Niklos manned the tiller as the boat steadily approached the shore rolling along with the incoming tide. Imoen sat next to Niklos and gazed adoringly at the young thief as he steered the skiff towards shore. The pair had retired to a stateroom immediately upon entering the galley and they pair had not emerged until the ship was anchored off shore from Candlekeep. Imoen blushed at the looks she received from her companions. All save Ajantis, his scornful looks and comments elicited sarcastic and biting comments in return from Imoen. Jeral realized that any affection Imoen held towards the paladin was long gone and that she looked happier than he had seen her in a long time.

The skiff grounded on the beach and Jeral hopped out into knee deep water and waded ashore. He looked upwards to the small fortress sitting at the top of the bluff. The legendary Library of Candlekeep was known by many names across the realms. But to Jeral it was simply home. Jeral grasped his long bow in his left hand and started walking the well worn path that snaked up the cliff face to the castle gates. The others fell in line behind him as they steadily made their way upwards. Imoen waited until they were out of sight and then bode Niklos farewell. The snickers of the sailors did nothing to temper her affections and she kissed Niklos passionately and then strode off after her companions. As she strode out of sight she shouted back, "get some rest and keep the bed warm until I return." The howls of laughter from the sailors greeted her in reply as she continued up the trail after the others.

The trail meandered up the bluff and finally reached the top of the cliff a few hundred yards away from the castle. Jeral and Imoen led the way directly to the gatehouse. As they approached a half dozen guards exited the gatehouse and stood watching their approach. The guards were dressed in silver chain mail with matching helms. Four carried long spears while a pair carried sword and shield. Another half dozen crossbow men stood on the battlements watching their approach. A burly soldier with a face fill of grey whiskers strode out of the gatehouse and greeted Jeral and Imoen by name once they were within hailing distance. Hull, the burly sergeant of the guard approached the pair like long lost friends.

"By the stars, for it is Imoen and Jeral. Why we had all wondered where you pair disappeared to."

"Greetings Hull, it is good to see you. It is good to be home."

"Ah Jeral, that is the thing. This is not your home any more. You willingly left Candlkeep with Gorion. Master Ulraunt declared that you no longer are a resident of Candlekeep."

"Hull, are you telling me I may not enter?"

"Now don't get riled Jeral, you know the Watchers do not make the rules. We merely enforce them on behalf of the monks. You, Imoen and your companions may only enter Candlekeep if you provide a tome that is a worthy addition to the Library. I wish it was otherwise but the rules are rules."

"Hull, I understand the rules very well. Please send for one of the monks for we have a tome that will gain us passage."

Hull barked at one of the guards and the young soldier entered the castle through the small sally port next to the main gate. Hull and the other four guards stood around nervously. The soldiers stole glances at Jeral and his companions, clearly their reputations had preceded their arrival at Candlekeep.

"So how is Yoktori working out? I am still dealing with the fact that he beat me so easily at the spring tournament."

Hull looked up and beamed with pride. "Ahhhhh, Jeral we got a good one in that fellow. He is turning into one of our finest Watchers. He is well disciplined and has excelled in all aspects of his training."

"I assume he is undefeated in the sparring yard."

"Aye, that one is a natural. With his speed and skill he is a match for any I have seen. Jeral, I assume you will let the past go. He defeated you in the tournament fairly. I will not have you looking to start trouble."

Jeral smiled warmly at Hull. "I assure you I have no wish to lose again. I do want to chat with him if I have time for I want him to teach me how to fight with two blades."

"It is extremely difficult to learn to fight with two blades. Most who try fail to master the art and a man proficient with one blade will always defeat a man poorly trained with two. So proceed accordingly."

"Ever the weapons master. Hull I Thank you for your wise council. I will definitely keep that in mind."

"Think nothing of it Jeral, although I must say that you and Imoen seem to have grown up quite a bit in a short period of time. And you have some very capable looking friends." Jeral quickly introduced his companions and Minsc and Hull chatted animatedly about the pros and cons of the great sword while the party waited for the monks to arrive. Once the monks arrived Jeral pulled out one of the two tomes he had taken from Jhasso's house. The monk's eyes widened in excitement as his trembling hands took the proffered book.

"You have made a worthy donation to the Library of Candlekeep. You are your companions are welcome to enter. Please visit Winthrop at the Candlekeep Inn and he will see to your lodgings." The monks turned away and quickly departed. With a nod Hull ordered the gates opened and the group entered Candlekeep. Jeral and Imoen had returned home.

The inn looked exactly as Imoen remembered it. Smiling she opened the door and led the way into the common room. At this hour in the morning the common room was empty, all of the patrons having departed to attend to their daily business and not yet returning for lunch. Imoen motioned everyone to seats around a table, grabbed Jeral by the arm, and headed to the kitchen. Pushing open the door to the kitchen she was accosted by a wave of familiar and welcome smells. Winthrop was making a fish stew for lunch and bread was baking in the stone oven against the wall. Withrop was as fat as Imoen remembered and he was sweating heavily as he cut up vegetables for the stew. Sliding the last of the vegetables into the pot he wiped his hands on his apron and looked up.

"No offense miss but I do not cotton to guests in my kitchen. Please wait in the tavern and I will be right out."

"Are you kidding me? I lived under your roof for nearly my entire life and now you do not recognize me. You, you….buffleheaded ninny!" Imoen stomped her foot angrily on the floor as the color flushed into her face.

"By the Gods! Imoen, is that you? Then that, you, by the Gods Jeral has returned as well. You two look like proper nobility in those fancy get ups with those fine weapons. Imoen, you look a right proper lady what with the fancy get up and all. Course any woman that wears pants that tight had to be you. I am sorry I did not see it. Come here and give old Winthrop a hug. I was so sorry to hear about Gorion's death. He was a great man and a better friend. He dearly loved both of you and would be delighted that you were still alive."

Imoen raced forward and hugged the man who raised her and the tears came freely as she sobbed into his sweaty chest. Winthrop patted her on the back and fought back tears as they embraced.

"Ssssssshhh, there there lass. It will all be ok. Winthrop is here." After a few moments Imoen composed herself and found she could speak without crying.

"Sorry, just been through a lot since I left. So much to tell you. I am not sure where to begin."

"That part is easy lass. This is a tavern, this is a place for people to tell stories. We will start with a drink and some food and take it from there. You and Jeral go sit down and I will take care of everything." Imoen nodded and went back into the common room to rejoin her friends.

Winthrop soon came through the doors with a tray full of steaming bread fresh from the oven along with blocks of cheese, a jar of honey and a pitcher of cream. "Let me get everyone a round of drinks and then you and Jeral can introduce me to your friends." He bustled behind the bar and returned with mugs of ale and bottles of stronger spirits in case anyone wanted something more than ale. He dumped everything onto the table with a thunk and then sat down heavily.

"Excuse my manners but this place has not been the same since you left."

"Are you running it by yourself?"

"Feels like it but no. I hired a new girl after you left, wisp of a lass, but she is still learning her way here. But I manage. Enough about me, so who are your friends?"

"You mean you do not know?"

"Imoen, don't be daft, why would I know who these people are?"

"Well couple reasons. First we are kinda famous."

Winthrop laughed deeply and smacked his hand on his meaty thigh. "Ha you always were a joker Imoen. Famous."

"I am serious. That is squire Ajantis, the mage Dynaheir, the warrior priest Yeslick and the ranger Minsc. We are known from Nashkiel to Baldur's Gate."

"You are serious aren't you? By the Gods. Well Candlekeep is always a bit isolated and since the iron crisis started we almost never get guests so we do not keep up with the goings on in the realm. Why you lot are only the second set of visitors this place has seen in over a month."

"Who are the other visitors?" Jeral leaned forward eagerly and knocked over his mug of ale. Winthrop nimbly slid his chair back from the table to avoid the mess. He pulled a ran out of his apron and smoothly mopped up the mess on the table.

"I may be fat but I still have the reflexes of my youth. Emily! Emily! Please come down here. Right where was I?"

"The other visitors."

"Right, Jeral you need to calm yourself. You look far too tense for a man at your age. You should be worried about nothing beyond wine and women."

"Winthrop, the visitors."

"Pilgrims. About a dozen of them arrived two days ago. Have been spending every waking moment in the Library. Might odd for pilgrims but who am I to judge?"

Winthrop did not fail to notice that a dozen eyes started at him intently and all were leaning forward to hear more about the pilgrims.

"Out with in Winthrop, what was odd about them?"

"You know how holy rollers usually are. Pilgrims tend to be a pious lot dressed plainly and forgoing many earthly delights in an effort to get closer to whatever they call their faith. This lot rolls in dressed in satin robes and eating like kings. They are tremendously wealthy and seem to have little interest in any of the Gods. Then there is the big one, called himself Koveras, even bigger than your burly friend Minsc there. If that one is a pilgrim I am an elf."

Winthrop shook his head and reached inside his shirt to pull a small iron key on an electrum chain off of his neck. Placing it on the table he slid it towards Jeral.

"This is for you lad. It is the key to Gorion's chambers in the Library. He said that if anything ever happened to him he wanted you to read a letter he left for you on his desk." Jeral grabbed the key with a trembling hand and stood to depart.

"Jeral what do you think you are doing?"

"Why I am going to the Library, I want to check out my room and then see what Gorion left for me in his. And I also want a look at the pilgrims."

Shaking his head Winthrop looked grim. "You know the Library rules, no one may enter the Library with arms or armor. Go upstairs; last room on the left is yours. Freshen up, make yourself presentable and then visit Gorion's room. The pilgrims can wait. I have rooms enough for all of you at no charge."

Imoen hugged Winthrop fiercely. "You are too kind puffguts, I have missed you."

"I have missed you too lass I feared the worst when you all left." Winthrop paused to blow his nose and right back tears as he hugged Imoen again. Breaking the hug he cleared his throat and turned towards Jeral.

"Jeral, when you go to the Library look out for Ulraunt. He is no friend of yours. The day after you left he had everything removed from your room and then burned. He then had the temple priests clean the room thoroughly. That next day they blessed the room with holy water and conducted a ritual to purge the room of what he called a 'foul taint.' It made no sense to me but he has never wanted you here at Candlekeep, been going on and on about you since Gorion brought you here as a wee baby. Not sure why he had it in for you but something about your arrival here never set right with him." With those cheerful words echoing in Jeral's head he slowly mounted the stairs to his room.

The Library was exactly as Jeral remembered it. The massive wooden doors opened silently and a wave of cool dry air washed over him in a wave. The Candlekeep Library was older than most buildings in the realm and made by the finest dwarven craftsmen who had ever walked the land. The Library was constructed in a such a manner that no matter the time of day or the season of the year the interior of the building was cool and dry. The conditions were ideal for the preservation of books, ensuring that books would never rot or mildew. Many books were centuries old and only showed minor yellowing from the passage of time. The building was one of the marvels of the world and Jeral was fortunate enough to have called it home.

As he strode through the halls of the Library he saw monks going about their business and Watchers positioned on each level to keep the peace and protect the priceless tomes. Jeral recognized many of the monks and soldiers on sight. Each time he made eye contact with one of the occupants of the Library the reaction was the same. They would do a double take as if unable to believe their eyes. They then would move in the opposite direction from Jeral as quickly as possible and not look back. To Jeral it almost felt like they were afraid of him. But that was impossible. Most of the monks and soldiers in the great Library had known Jeral since he was an infant. What could they have to fear from him?

Pushing that question aside Jeral made for the great staircase and started slowly wending his way upwards. Gorion's room was located on the fifth floor of six in the Library. Jeral slowly made his way up the stairs avoiding eye contact with anyone else. Confusion mingled with anticipation as Jeral reach the landing on the fifth floor and headed towards Gorion's room. As Jeral reached Gorion's door he stopped and eyed the doorway carefully. The door and the walls surrounding it were scarred by hundreds of weapon blows and scorch marks were everywhere. Clearly Ulraunt had wanted to force entry into Gorion's room but his desires were no match for the wizard's power. Even death had not broken the enchantments that Gorion had placed on the room. Jeral smiled at the thought of Gorion and the power he was able to wield. Once again Jeral wondered how he was able to survive when one such as Gorion did not. Was he just lucky? For if it was luck that would surely run out one of these days and likely at the worst possible time.

Jeral pulled the key from his pocket and placed it in the lock. Once the key entered the lock it dispelled whatever enchantments were holding the door together for the door crumbled into a pile of splinters within seconds. Jeral gingerly stepped over the wreckage of the door, entered the room, and looked around. Gorion had always lived simply and his room was always organized and spotless. As Jeral took in the room it looked as if Gorion had just left for breakfast. The bed was neatly made, the room was clean and well ordered. The lantern on the desk burned brightly illuminating the entire room in a warm yellow light.

A blue envelope sat in the middle of Gorion's desk. Jeral wordlessly picked up the envelope and turned it over. His own name was written on the center of the envelope in Gorion's own hand. The envelope was sealed with a heavy blob of green wax and sealed with Gorion's signet ring. Since Jeral was unarmed he could not cleanly open the letter. Jeral turned the envelope over and ripped it open with trembling hands. Inside the envelope were two pages of file vellum covered in silver writing. The envelope dropped to the ground as Jeral began to read.

_Hello my son,  
If you are reading this, it means I have met an untimely death. I would tell you not to grieve for me, but I feel much better thinking that you would. There are things I must tell you in this letter that I might have told you before. However, if my death came too soon then I would have never been given the chance. First off, I am not your biological father, for that distinction lies with an entity known as Bhaal. The Bhaal that I speak of is the one you know of as a divinity. In the crisis known as the Time of Troubles, when the Gods walked Faerun, Bhaal was also forced into a mortal shell. He was somehow forewarned of the death that awaited him during this time. For reasons unknown to me, he sought out women of every race and forced himself upon them. Your mother was one of those women, and as you know, she died in childbirth. I had been her friend and on occasion, lover. I felt obligated to raise you as my own. I have always thought of you as my child and I hope you still think of me as your father. You are a special child. The blood of the Gods runs through your veins. If you make use of our extensive Library you will find that our founder, Alaundo, has many prophecies concerning the coming of the spawn of Bhaal. There are many who will want to use you for their own purposes. One, a man who calls himself Sarevok, is the worst danger. He has studied here at Candlekeep and thus knows a great deal about your history and who you are. Please remember this above all else. Blood is not destiny for man will always retain free will. You have lived a good life and you have a good heart. Nothing will change that unless you choose to walk a darker path. Watching you grow into the fine man you are today was my greatest pleasure and it was my honor to call you my son. _

_Gorion _

_P.S. I still think the whole bard thing is a bad decision._

The letter dropped from Jeral's hands as he staggered back and sat down heavily on the bed. The tears came unbidden and he sobbed into his hands. His mind swam as he took in everything. Despite the outrageous claims in the letter Jeral knew in his bones that Gorion spoke the truth. Suddenly everything made sense; the waves of rage, the dreams, the healing powers, the overpowering smell of blood, the additional strength gained when angry, it all made perfect sense. Jeral was a demigod, a spawn of darkness most foul.

"So this was the home of the great Gorion? So extremely disappointing. A man of his reputation should have lived in a palace not a hovel such as this. How much he must have sacrificed to raise you." Jeral looked up and saw a man standing in the doorway of the room. The man was as tall as Minsc, and heavily muscled. His broad frame nearly filled the doorway as he looked dispassionately at Jeral. The man was not many years older than Jeral and darkly handsome. He was dressed in robes made of the finest white silks and they were tied with a bright red sash. He also wore black armored boots and studded metal gauntlets on each forearm. All in all he looked like a warrior making a feeble effort to appear as something else. He looked to his left and right down the hallway. Jeral was not sure why the man was here but the hairs on his neck were standing on end. This man was not Jeral's friend.

With two quick strides the large man entered the room and moved next to the bed. Before Jeral could react he was pulled roughly to his feet and lifted into the air. Another two steps and the large man had slammed Jeral into the cold stone wall. Adjusting his grip he placed both hands around Jeral's neck and started to squeeze. Jeral hammered against the man's forearms trying to break free but it was useless. The man was stronger than anyone he had ever seen.

"My name is Sarevok and I am the leader of the Iron Throne. I am also our father's true heir. I will enjoy watching you die as I have so many others of our siblings. Given all the trouble you have caused me I may stretch it out a bit. A sword through the chest is just too quick."

Jeral looked up and was momentarily paralyzed as he saw a pair of glowing golden eyes staring back at him. Everything, all the disparate pieces of the story finally came together in his mind. It was the eyes that did it. They were the same eyes that he saw in the forest clearing so many months ago. This was the armored behemoth that had killed Gorion; this was the man Jeral needed to kill. Jeral's face contorted in rage as he spat in the man's face. His attacker recoiled in an effort to avoid his spittle and loosened his grip slightly. Jeral seized his chance. Tightening his body Jeral lifted his knees up to his face the tucked into a tight ball. Lifting his hips he kicked out as hard as he could with both feet. As strong as his opponent was Jeral's legs were stronger than Sarevok's massive arms and he managed to knock the man back a few paces and force his hands from around his neck.

Free from the chokehold Jeral fell to the floor and struck the stones hard. Pain radiated up his spine as he struggled to his feet and sucked in air greedily. His attacker wiped the spittle off his face and smirked. "That was cute. You show more fight that that pathetic father of yours did." Jeral quickly uttered a few words of power and extended his right arm. A jet of flame shot out and struck the man full in the chest. His fine robes burst into flame and he staggered backwards out of the room screaming and batting at the flames.

"AHHHHHHHHH fire, fire fire, someone please help me!"

Sarevok staggered backwards into a bookshelf and then fell to the floor writhing in pain as several books burst into flame. Jeral stood staring at the man and tilted his head to the side in confusion. His spell was not all that powerful and this same man had shrugged off far stronger magics when he killed Gorion. Something did not make sense. The man continued to writhe around in apparent agony and ineffectually bat at the flames on his clothes. Jeral stepped out of the room and stared down at the writhing body on the floor. Breathing heavily he wanted to kill the man on the floor but the man's hysterics seemed wrong somehow. Jeral stood transfixed watching the flames.

"Have you no honor at all Jeral? What could this man have possibly done to you?"

Jeral whirled around and saw Ulraunt, the Director of Candlekeep approaching followed by a dozen Watchers. The white haired mage strode quickly along the hallway, his golden robes billowing around his bony frame as he approached. Ulraunt fanned the fingers of his right hand and streams of water shot out and quickly extinguished the flames. Snapping his fingers Ulraunt pointed at the downed man. "You two, take him to the temple quickly. They should be able to handle his burns and prevent any permanent scarring."

Jeral watched dumbly as a pair of Watchers hefted the large man to his feet and dragged him off down the hall. Jeral caught the faintest hint of a smirk on the big man's face as he was dragged away. Realizing that he had been tricked Jeral slumped his shoulders and turned to face Ulraunt.

"Jeral, I always knew you would show your true colors. The blood always wins. I told Gorion as much many times."

"What are you talking about Ulraunt? That man is with the Iron Throne and he killed my father. Killing him, or trying to kill him, is nothing more than justice."

"Silence your forked tongue hell spawn! Your lies know no bounds. Gorion was not your father. He was an arrogant fool who thought that love and compassion could overcome the evil coursing through your veins. That imbecile thought that he could raise a son of Bhaal and have him not return to the darkness. Your actions this day show the folly of that pathetic hope. Seven members of the Iron Throne lay dead downstairs at your hand. The eighth only survives due to my direct and timely intervention. Sarevok is now the leader of the Iron Throne since you killed his father and the other leadership of that fine merchant house."

"I have killed no one this day. If members of the Iron Throne are dead then I welcome it for they are a scourge on this land."

"From what I have heard you have single handedly made it your life's work to bring down a noble and honorable merchant house. Why the Iron Throne has saved Baldur's Gate. Providing iron to the city during this brutal iron crisis has helped ensure the Flaming Fist can protect the city and the entire realm. Why I received word just last night that you nearly destroyed their headquarters in Baldur's Gate. The Captain of the Flaming Fist, I think is name is Angelo, has a warrant out for your arrest."

"Lies! All lies! And Duke Eltan commands the Flaming Fist not Captain Angelo."

"Enough Jeral. I am done listening to you and your twisted lies. You will be placed under arrest until such a time that you and your companions can be returned to Baldur's Gate to face the headman's ax."

Jeral eyed Ulraunt and the ten Watchers with him, his eyes quickly scanning the room trying to assess his options.

Ulraunt sneered and held his arms out away from his body. Sheets of electricity began to form is each of his hands as he stared at Jeral. "I may not be anywhere near the mage that Gorion was but I am still more than powerful enough to handle the likes of you. Go quietly with these guards or else die on the spot. Either outcome will give me equal pleasure."

Jeral nodded once and hung his head. A pair of Watchers grasped each of his arms tightly and close marched him off to a cell in the lowest level of the Library. A wave of conflicting emotions washed through Jeral's mind as he struggled to comprehend all the events of the past hour. Jeral knew one thing for certain. He would manage to get free and he would see Sarevok again. And when he did Sarevok would die by his hand.

The cool moist air snapped Jeral out of his reverie. If there was moisture in the air then they had reached the dungeon level under the Library. Since they did not store any books on this level the builders had not concerned themselves with keeping it dry like the upper levels. Everything on this level was slick to the touch and patches of mold grew on almost every surface. Jeral saw the large holding cell at the end of the hall and was overcome with concern as he saw Imoen, Dynaheir, Ajantis, Yeslick and Minsc all in the cell already. Minsc was lying prone on the floor and Yeslick and Dynaheir were kneeling by his side. Jeral only caught a glimpse of the large ranger's face but the part he saw was badly bruised and covered in dried blood.

Jeral was roughly and thoroughly searched. Already without weapons and armor the guards stripped him of everything else of use. He was left with the clothes on his back and the boots on his feet. The guards did not miss a thing, each and every item that was socked away somewhere on his person was found and removed. Once he was stripped of all his personal belongings he was shoved into the cell with his companions. The heavy steel door swung shut behind him and Jeral heard the locks slid into place. The guards departed the dungeon and silence fell over the room. Jeral felt the angry stares of the paladin but was not ready to deal with Ajantis. Looking to avoid the issue he looked at the downed ranger and inquired what happened. Imoen looked over and responded in a tired voice.

"The Watchers came for us in the tavern. They claim we killed the leadership of the Iron Throne. The marched us here, stripped us down of everything but our clothes, and locked us in this cell."

"So what happened to Minsc? He looks like he wrestled a giant and lost."

Yeslick looked up from the ranger's side and said proudly, "This one has to be part dwarf. He has such a fire inside his internal furnace. The Watchers got a little fresh with Dynaheir while they were arresting us and Minsc took a wee bit of offense. He put down over half a dozen heavily armed soldiers with nothing but his bare hands before they managed to subdue him. They were lucky he was not in his armor and unarmed else they would still be battling to stop him."

"Is he going to be ok?"

"He will be fine, he is resting now. I had to set a number of his bones before I could heal them so that took a lot out of him."

Jeral backed into the far corner of the cell and squatted down on his haunches. Imoen walked over and slid down the wall next to him. "Jeral, please don't hate me but I have to ask. Did you kill them?"

"No." One word, delivered in a whisper but it was delivered with a sincerity that Imoen implicitly trusted.

"Ok, that is good enough for me. Ulraunt said some pretty awful things about you. Said you are the very personification of evil. That you are the child of Bhaal."

"Apparently I am. Gorion left me a letter that spelled it all out. I am a demigod, the offspring of a mortal woman and Bhaal, the Lord of Murder. So he may be right."

"Jeral, why did you keep this from us? I cannot risk my knighthood by traveling with a, a, a creature such as you."

Imoen glared back at the paladin and sneered. "Nice to know you will throw away everything we have been through together over a few words."

"Imoen, it's okay. I do not want to fight anymore. I need to think, I need to let all this sink in. Ajantis, we have never seen eye to eye, our alliance has always been an uneasy one and this will not improve our relationship. I would only ask that you take the time to see past the words and see the man behind them. I do not feel I am evil, I struggle against the darkness but I feel most of us do. Just please keep an open mind."

"Bah, I have no need of an open mind, the path is clear to me. I must sever all ties with you, alert the Order to your true nature and await further orders."

"So be it." Jeral hung his head and a tense silence feel back over the group.

At some point he slept. A shrill whistle woke Jeral with a start. Lurching to his feet he started out the bars and broke into a wide smile.

"Tethtoril, it is nice to see a friendly face. You look well." The man facing Jeral was only slightly older than Jeral, very thin and dressed in sky blue mage robes. His long red hair was pulled back into an unruly top knot.

"Although you look like a kender with your hair pulled up like that."

"Yeah a really tall good looking kender though." Imoen snorted as she eyed her old friend. Tethtoril was one of the monks responsible for maintaining the Library. Despite training under Ulraunt Tethtoril never turned against Jeral and for that he was eternally greatful. Growing up he was one of the few people Jeral could call a friend.

"Well here I was worried about how the two of you are holding up. Seems like you are just fine, I guess I shall take my leave of you then." Tethtoril bowed deeply and waved his arms around in a poor imitation of genuflecting before royalty. Despite herself Imoen started laughing out loud. Tethtoril straightened up and his face become serious. Striding up to the bars he grasped Jeral around the shoulders and started into his face.

"Tell me the truth Jeral, did you kill those men?"

"No. But I am thrilled they are dead for the Iron Throne is evil and has been trying to kill me since the day I left Candlekeep."

"Are you held sway but the dark blood that courses through your veins?"

Jeral paused slightly before he responded. "I believe in my heart that I am a good man and I am striving to live my life accordingly. However, I cannot lie to you, there is darkness within me and I struggle to keep it at bay."

"Gorion used to say that the choices we make and the actions we take define who we are. I am glad to see you are not a vessel for the Lord of Murder as Ulraunt would have us believe."

"Why does he hate me so?"

"Don't take it personally Jeral. Ulraunt is a good man and as he sees it he is looking to keep Candlekeep safe. Gorion apparently had to tell him the truth about you before they would allow you to stay in the Library all those years ago. Ulraunt was the deputy at the time to the director and argued vehemently that you were beyond redemption. He was overruled and has never forgotten that slight. He is a good man; he just believes – as many do – that one cannot rise about their breeding."

"Yeah yeah Ulraunt is a peach. So what is going to happen to us red?"

"Imoen, it pains me to say it but the Watchers plan to transport the six of you to Baldur's Gate under heavy guard. Once there you will be turned over to the Flaming Fist for your crimes against the city. They have decreed that at midnight on the full moon two weeks hence you will all die for your crimes."

"I will not fight the Watchers for they are like family to me. We will have to escape once we reach Baldur's Gate."

"Jeral I am impressed, clearly you are managing to keep a hold on that anger that flows in your veins. However, I may offer a better solution that could keep all of you alive."

"You have our attention Tethtoril."

"I think I can teleport you and Imoen to the catacombs beneath the city with your equipment. From there, if you survive through the catacombs – and that is a big if - you can make your way to the surface. Board that ship of yours, return to Baldur's Gate, and free your friends before they meet the ax."

"Good monk, I have attempted many spells in this dungeon. It is warded against magic as are the walls of this castle. Everyone knows teleportation cannot allow anyone to enter or exit the castle."

"Lady Dynaheir, your words ring with wisdom. However, there are a few areas in which you do not have all the necessary information. This castle is warded to prevent any from entering. However, those of us with the arcane gift have learned how to cast spells despite the wards in place in the dungeon. By retaining the ability to use magic we can best protect the Library from danger. Additionally teleportation can work for a few of us. While your gift involves fire mine involves teleportation. Even since I was a novice I found I had a gift of teleportation. I quickly learned that I could teleport at will within the castle. I can tell you that I spent a lot of time in the ladies bath house when I was coming of age."

"I knew someone was watching me! I knew it. Tethtoril, you are a scoundrel." Tethtoril blushed beet red at Imoen's words. Clearing his throat he forced himself to continue. "My apologies Imoen for invading your privacy although I must say the view was spectacular."

Ignoring Imoen's look of outrage the red haired mage pushed on. "If I may continue. I think I can teleport Imoen and Jeral down into the catacombs with all of your equipment."

"What will happen to you when our absence is discovered?"

"Well I will not be here of course. I have decided that it is time for me to live life outside of these walls. I have an audition scheduled with the Cowled Wizards in the city of coin. So everyone already knows I am leaving soon. My departure should go unnoticed in the uproar that results from your absence."

"If you can teleport two then why not six?"

"A fair question noble squire. The magic that imbues this great Library with its protections is almost a living thing. Don't look at me like that. Ask your own mage, magic can be tightly attuned to nature and many other things we do not understand. I believe that the Library will allow those two to teleport to the catacombs as the castle – for lack of a better term – remembers them. I fear that if I try with anyone else the results would be spectacularly unfortunate." Dynaheir nodded tightly as Ajantis crossed his arms in frustration and leaded back against the wall.

"Jeral, I believe you forgot this." Tethtoril reached through the bars and handed Jeral a blue envelope. Jeral quickly tucked Gorion's final words in an inside pocked of his jacket. "You have my deepest thanks, this letter is very important to me."

"I thought it might be. So if there are no further questions we should begin." Imoen quickly hugged Dynaheir and then turned to face Tethtoril. Jeral nodded at his companions. Yeslick and Dynaheir returned his gaze and nodded farewell while Ajantis refused to make eye contact. Minsc continued to slumber unaware of the drama that surrounded him.

Tethtoril started chanting and making ornate patterns in the air with his hands. After a few minutes Imoen and Jeral started to shimmer and then quickly faded from view.

Tethtoril smiled wearily and leaned against the wall. "I think it actually worked."

"You did not know it would work?" The bite of Dynaheir's tone caused Tethtoril to wince slightly.

"Well I was pretty sure it would work but it was the kind of thing I could never test since there is no way back from the catacombs but to survive them and find a way out at the other end. Hard to get someone to go there willingly. Well best of luck, I need to be on my way before someone figures out I had a hand in their escape." With one last look Tethtoril turned away and headed upstairs into the Library.

"So this is how it ends. We will never see Jeral and Imoen again. Either they die in the catacombs or they survive and forget they ever knew us."

Dynaheir walked up to Ajantis and shook her head as she eyed the paladin.

"Consider this a test of faith Squire Ajantis. Pray to Helm for guidance. I for one am certain we will see them again. They will come to rescue us before we feel the headman's ax."


	30. Chapter 30: The Crypts

Chapter 30 – The Crypts – Day 97

Jeral was roughly flung to the cold stone floor as the teleportation spell ended. His eyes watered from the pain and he fought back the wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. Jeral slowly rolled onto his back and lay there breathing deeply until the pain subsided. Wearily he forced himself up into a sitting position. He turned his head to the right and saw Imoen passed out on the floor with her face in a small pool of vomit. '_Nice to know it was no fun for her either_' Jeral mused as he eyed his sister. Confident that she was not seriously injured Jeral painfully made his way to his feet and slowly surveyed his surroundings. He was in a small room with bookshelves lining three walls. The fourth wall was empty save for a wooden door centered on the wall. Lanterns hung from chains in the ceiling and gave off a warm glow. Jeral started at the lanterns for a few moments and determined that they were magical and that the magic was very old. The lanterns had probably been burning for centuries. In the center of the room was a small table with a black leather pouch atop it.

Jeral stretched to try and work some of the pain out of his body and walked over to the nearest bookshelf. Idly picking a book at random he fanned the pages. A faded scroll slid out of the book and gently fell to the floor. Jeral quickly picked up the scroll page and skimmed it. '_spell of lightening, excellent,'_Jeral thought. Replacing the book on the shelf Jeral methodically went row by row and searched every book on the shelves. By the time his search was complete 10 scrolls laid in a neat pile on the table. Jeral started studying one scroll and then the next to determine if he could safely understand and cast the spells before him.

"Odd time to study isn't it Jeral? What is that smell?" Imoen recoiled when she realized she was lying in a pool of her own vomit. She quickly got to her feet.

"I need a bath, this is disgusting."

"Teleportation is not supposed to hurt like that. I suspect the wards on the Library interfered with the spell somewhat. We are fortunate to be alive."

"Jeral, we are alone and unarmed and we have no idea where we are and where we need to go."

"Imoen, have some faith. We are in the catacombs beneath Candlekeep, that much is apparent. We have to go through that door for there is no other way to go. We are together so that is something. As for our equipment, unless I miss my guess it is in that bag on the table."

"This little bag? You have lost your mind brother."

"Take a look. Think of what you want and reach into the bag."

Shaking her head Imoen walked up to the bag, opened it and peered in.

"It's an empty bag Jeral."

"Just reach in."

"If something bites my hand off I am never going to forgive you Jeral."

"It will be okay." Imoen slowly reached in her arm. Eyes widening in shock and alarm she quickly pulled it out. Her hand reappeared clutching her backpack.

"How is that possible?"

"It is Gorion's bag of containment, I thought it looked familiar. It is enchanted to hold as much as a small house. I bet Tethtoril took it from Gorion's room when he grabbed my letter and he put all of our things in it."

Imoen reached in again and pulled out a full water skin and her brace of throwing knives. Tossing the bag to Jeral she started undressing.

"Turn around. I need to clean up and get out of these clothes. If vomit does not wash out of these clothes we are going back to Madame Clarisse's shop to get our money back. For what you paid for our clothes they should be near indestructible."

While Imoen cleaned herself up Jeral emptied the bag of everything Tethtoril had placed in it. Jeral organized the equipment by owner and then started getting himself ready for the trek through the catacombs. Jeral slid on his enchanted chain and then placed his black jacket over the armor. Throwing knives went back into each boot and two more into the internal jacket pockets. Jeral buckled on his sword belt and then paused. He removed the short sword from his sword belt and picked up the heavily enchanted long sword that belonged to Ajantis. Drawing it reverently from its sheath the blade crackled with magical energy.

"Jeral, what are you doing?"

"Imoen, who knows what the two of us will face? We need to be prepared. I am going to borrow this sword and wield it until I can return it to Ajantis. I fight as well with a long sword as with a short sword. Anything else we can use from the others to gain the slightest advantage we will." Jeral tossed Imoen a pair of boots and took a pair for himself.

"Put those on, they provide substantial protection against arrows."

"Not a chance. I love my new boots and I am never, ever taking them off." Jeral knew better than to argue with his sister about fashion decisions so he let the issue go without a fight.

"Very well, at least wear Dynaheir's protective bracers as they are more powerful than yours." Imoen caught the proffered bracers and slipped them on in place of her own. Jeral slipped on the enchanted boots of speed and placed his own boots back in the bag of containment along with everything else that belonged to his companions. Placing his quiver on his back Jeral hefted his long bow and nodded once to Imoen. Once the pair was ready Jeral slowly opened the door to the catacombs.

The door creaked open on protesting hinges that had clearly sat unused for a long time. The door opened into a dark passageway. Stepping through the door Jeral's foot touched the stone in the hallway. As soon as his foot struck the ground a popping noise was heard as a torch in a wall sconce to his left flickered to life. Once the torch was lit another torch on the opposite wall popped to life. One after another torches flared to life along each wall as far as the pair could see. The lights illuminated a passage wide enough for a dozen to walk abreast.

"Well those torches just told everyone we are here. So much for surprise."

"Focus on the positive Imoen, at least we can see where we are going."

As the pair moved cautiously down the hallway their footsteps kicked up small clouds of dust. The floor was coated with a heavy lair of dust that covered the entire passageway. There were no tracks or any sign of movement in the dust that heavily coated the floor. After a few hundred paces they entered a large square room with identical passageways in the center of the walls to their left, front, and right.

Jeral looked down each hallway and noticed that each corridor was lighted by the same enchanted torches along the wall. Jeral turned left and started walking.

"Why left?"

"I don't know Imoen, it just feels right. We stay left until we run out of options and then systematically work from there. That should help ensure we do not get lost and we can find our way out of here eventually."

Jeral continued walking and noticed a red dot from the end of the hall way start moving towards him. The dot grew larger and larger as it approached.

"Imoen, run! I think I trigged a trap of some sort!"

Jeral scrambled backwards and started running. His boots quickly carried him back to Imoen. He slowed his pace to remain at her side. Reaching the man room he shoved her against the wall and dove on top of her. Jeral watched as the fireball carried on down the opposite hallway and exploded off in the distance. Jeral quickly got to his feet and assisted Imoen back up.

"I think I need to lead Jeral. This place is a tomb for the founders of Candlekeep. As such it must be heavily warded to prevent grave robbers."

"How bout we do it together? I can sometimes see the magical imprint from the traps so I can aid you as you search for the physical ones."

"Fair enough I suppose. Let's try this again but slowly and carefully this time." Moving cautiously the pair made their way down the hallway. The passageway split in three and they again took the left most passage. After a few hundred paces they arrived as a small crypt. A raised sarcophagus sat on a tiered dais in the center of the room. Imoen cautiously entered the room and disabled a pair of pressure plates at the entrance to the room. Circling the coffin she examined it critically and knelt down by the end of the coffin. Working with her tools she soon disarmed another pair of traps and then stood up.

"That should do it. Let's open it and see what is inside that we can use."

"Imoen, this is a crypt. We cannot defile the remains."

Imoen looked at Jeral and shook her head in annoyance.

"Listen, whoever is buried here has to have items of power buried with them. We need every advantage we have to survive this place. Now get over here and open this coffin."

Jeral walked over and reluctantly started pushing against the heavy stone lid. The lid slowly slid to the side. Once Jeral moved it partially open he stopped and the pair stepped back quickly. Stale air and the smell of embalming chemicals wafted through the room. Jeral peeked into the coffin and looked down on a skeleton. The clothes it once wore had turned into dust over the centuries. The corpse wore an ornate red ring, a very expensive looking necklace and clasped a large tome to its chest. Feeling unclean Jeral pried each of the three treasures from the corpse and then closed the coffin.

Looking at the items in turn Jeral smiled. "Ok Imoen you were right. Looting the tomb was a great idea; this ring makes one immune to normal fire and most magical fire. This book grants the reader wisdom."

"And the necklace?"

"No enchantment but it is really, really expensive." Excellent. Imoen refused the ring calling it hideous so Jeral slid it onto the ring finger of his left hand.

The next hallway was also heavily trapped and brought the pair to a tomb identical to the first. Upon looting that skeleton the pair found a handful of potions and another fine piece of jewelry. As the pair continued on they entered another long passageway that was heavy with traps both magical and mundane. Jeral watched in awe as Imoen ably disabled each and every one of the complex mechanical traps. Despite having no affinity or patience for stealth Imoen was a master with locks and traps.

The passageway turned sharply to the right and Jeral cautiously peeked around the corner. The room before him was clearly a tomb but it was far larger and more ornate than any of the tombs they had discovered so far. The walls were lined with the prophecies of Alundo written in gold across the walls and ceiling. The prophecies were written in common, elven and dwarvish and covered every available surface in the room. Jeral was mesmerized by the beauty that lay before him. Overcome by the scene Jeral started to walk into the room so he could marvel at the scene before him. Imoen grabbed him roughly by the arm and pulled him back around the corner.

"What are you doing Jeral? Pay attention!"

Imoen hissed at Jeral through clenched teeth.

"Look again in that room, but do not look at the prophecies."

Jeral looked around the corner again and noticed that the room was heavily covered in thick spider webs. A handful of large spiders prowled around the webs. Each of the beasts was the size of a pony. Jeral counted four but knew that others could be hiding out of sight.

Jeral drew one of his precious arrows of detonation and aimed it at one of the spiders in the center of the room. He let the arrow fly and quickly drew and nocked a second arrow. The arrow flew into the room and struck the largest of the spiders in the abdomen. The spider exploded in a cloud of red mist showering the other three in gore. Jeral sent his second arrow after the furthest spider and it too disappeared in a pink mist. Switching to enchanted fire arrows Jeral turned the third spider into a pin cushion before it could recover from the concussion from the pair of exploding arrows. Jeral nocked an additional fire arrow and scanned for the fourth creature.

A cry of pain from Imoen caused Jeral to whirl around. The fourth spider, badly burned and missing a leg, was perched on Imoen's shoulder and Jeral watched in horror as the creature's fangs bit deeply into her neck. A gout of blood shot from Imoen's neck as the fangs tore into her flesh. Screaming in rage Jeral fired a snap shot at the creature. From such a close range he could not miss and the arrow buried deep in the creature's head. It curled into a ball and fell to the ground dead. Throwing his long bow to the ground Jeral raced to catch Imoen as she collapsed to the ground. Jeral unstoppered one healing drought and poured it over the wound. He quickly unstoppered a second and tilted Imoen's head back and helped her drink it down. Some color returned to Imoen's face but Jeral watched in horror as dark blue lines started flowing under her skin from the bite. The spider's venom was starting to flow through her blood stream.

Feeling desperate Jeral knew he had no time to search through their equipment for any of their poison antidote. Jeral placed his hands tightly over the wound and focused on the injury. Jeral willed himself to see the poison and imagined that is could be pulled from her body. Jeral felt a rush of power run through his arms and gently pulled his arms away from Imoen's neck. Streams of spider venom trickled out of the bite and rolled down the side of her neck. Jeral wiped the poison off of Imoen's neck with his shirtsleeve and then proper her up against the wall. Imoen's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at Jeral.

"What happened?"

"Spider bit you."

"Why am I not dead?"

"I got you an antidote in time."

"No you didn't."

"Sure I did otherwise you would be dead."

"Jeral, something you did saved my life and stopped the poison from killing me. But it was not a potion. I felt something strange, something powerful, but it was also definitely you."

Imoen gazed at Jeral and nodded slowly.

"I guess you really are the son of a God for you have powers that no mortal man should."

Jeral offered Imoen his hand and helped her back to her feet. Unstoppering another healing potion he wordlessly held it out for her. She took the proffered potion and drank it down. The color returned to her face and the wound on her neck healed up leaving two small pinprick scars as the only reminder of the massive wound that was there minutes earlier.

"Ok, let me check this room for traps and then we can loot the tomb. This place should have some good treasure that can aid us."

"One second Imoen. Stand back." Jeral rifled through the scrolls he had picked up and started casting one of them. A small ball of fire raced into the room and exploded. The flames incinerated the corpses of the spiders and flames raced up into the webbing killing hundreds of smaller spiders and spider's eggs. Jeral warily entered the room and was relieved to see that not a web remained anywhere. The enchanted engravings and prophecies were unscathed from the fire and explosions. Imoen carefully made her way up to the tomb and spent some time examining the crypt and the steps leading to it carefully. After a while she removed her thief's tools and went to work.

Standing up she bowed to Jeral. "The way is safe your royal darkness."

"Not funny Imoen, really not funny."

Jeral walked up and slowly pushed open the coffin. Jeral pulled a cloak, book and gem out of the coffin and turned to face Imoen. Jeral placed the cloak around Imoen's shoulders and closed the clasp.

"This is a protective cloak and will help keep you safe from attacks and spells."

"Well it does not go with my outfit but I will wear it until we get out of here."

Jeral tucked away the fist size multi colored gem in his coin purse and set about examining the large book on his lap. After a few minutes Jeral smiled and opened the book.

"Stand back Imoen, this should be interesting."

As he started to read a blue light flowed out from the book and started covering Jeral. The light grew in brightness and intensity as waves of color flew out of the book and into Jeral's chest. After a few minutes the waves of light ceased and the book disintegrated in Jeral's hands. As Jeral got to his feet Imoen thought that he looked larger somehow and his armor seemed stretched slightly across his chest and shoulders under his jacket.

"What was that Jeral?"

"That tome was the collected wisdom and power of great warriors painstakingly collected over millennium. Some small measure of their strength and knowledge was passed onto me when I read the tome."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means I am a little stronger than I was before. It means I will fight a little better than I did before; and it means the next time Ajantis gives me grief I will probably deck him."

Imoen and Jeral retraced their steps and returned to the square room where they had started hours previously. With the left hand passage completely explored the pair headed down the passageway originally to their front. The passage headed hundreds of paces and gradually sloped downwards. At the ends of their vision the passageway opened into a large room that looked like the builders had tunneled into a natural cavern and elected to incorporate it into the layout of the catacombs. As they cautiously approached the cavern a horrible stench wafted over them. A smell of rotting meat and illness nearly forced Jeral to his knees. Jeral and Imoen quickly tied cloths over their faces to block out the worst of the stench and continued to move forward. As they entered the room the pair froze in horror and revulsion. The center of the room was piled high with hundreds of bodies in various stages of decomposition. Weapons, gems and other assorted items were scattered around the edges of the room.

Shuffling noises on the far side of the room caused the pair to tense. Imoen pulled out a pair of throwing knives and recoiled in horror as a quartet of disgusting creatures shambled into view. Each one was about the size of a man but walked hunched over. The skin was a brownish grey and patches of hair sprouted at odd locations on each creature. Catching sight of the siblings the unnatural creatures charged forward. A pair of throwing knives flew and the first creature fell with a pair of blades imbedded deep in its head. Jeral sent an arrow of flame into the second creature. It stumbled and a second arrow sent it to the afterlife. By the time Jeral could nock a third arrow the fourth and final creature fell to the floor dead. A trio of throwing knives had brought it down. Jeral looked up and noticed that Imoen had felled the third creature with a single knife to the eye.

"Imoen, I am impressed. You really are deadly with those blades."

Imoen smiled happily and twirled one through her fingers.

"Thanks, there is something about throwing knives that speaks to me in a way that a short bow and arrows never did. It just feels right when I throw then. I knew if those things touched us we would be paralyzed and die so I had to make sure I was quick and sure of aim."

Imoen set about recovering her blades while Jeral searched the perimeter of the room for anything valuable.

"We have come a long way from that first encounter with those gibberlings months ago."

"I remember that, I was so scared I nearly pissed myself." Imoen chuckled at Jeral's confession and picked up her final knife."

"I actually did, and if you repeat that to anyone I will put a blade where the sun doesn't shine."

Hastily agreeing to keep her secret Jeral picked up a wand off the floor. Examining it in his hand he noticed a word etched into the handle in very tiny near letters.

"Stand back Im." Jeral backed to the entrance of the room and pointed the wand at the pile or corpses.

"Inferio!"

A massive gout of flame poured from the wand and engulfed the pile of corpses. The bodies started to burn quickly and the whole pile quickly turned into a large funeral pyre.

"Why did you waste a charge from that wand? We will likely need every last one to survive this place."

"I could not leave those bodies here. They deserve some dignity, even in death. It is worth the risk."

Sensing that Imoen was not impressed with his selflessness Jeral quickly added, "Besides I needed to see if the wand would work."

"Well at least that makes sense."

Imoen watched as the smoke rose in the cavern and escaped through small fissures in the ceiling.

"Think that is the way out?"

"Not unless you can travel as the wind. That is probably a natural fissure in the rock. Who knows where it goes. That is not the way out for us. We have to keep looking."

The pair wended their way back to the original chamber and faced the one remaining hallway. The pair stared off into the darkness and prepared themselves for whatever lay ahead.

"Uh Jeral?"

"Yes?"

"Well not to be critical or anything but that little feeling of yours is pretty worthless. We started to the left and found nothing but trouble. Since we have yet to find the way out it clearly lies down this hallway."

"Fair enough. Next time we are trapped in a maze without a plan you get to pick the direction. Is that acceptable to you?"

Deciding that Jeral's question did not merit a response Imoen twirled a pair of throwing knives in her hands and started walking down the hallway. Jeral quickly caught up to her and the pair reached a set of steps going down. Without a single pause the pair descended deeper beneath Candlekeep.

The next few minutes passed in a blur of shapes and fire. The stairs descended into a massive chamber that looked like the inside of a temple. A dozen pillars rose up into the darkness and formed two neat rows down the center of the room. The room was so large that the pair could not make out the other end. All they could determine was that the magical torches provide light as far as they could see.

Shuffling at the far end of the hall drew their attention. Dozens of shadows slowly advanced. As they approached they came into view and Imoen gasped in despair. Two score skeletons slowly advanced on the party. One score carried halberds while the others carried war hammer and shield. Imoen slowly started backing away.

"Jeral, what are we going to do? We cannot fight skeletons with knives and arrows. There is nothing for us to strike. Our blades will pass right through them." J

eral was struck by the fear that was apparent in Imoen's voice. She was always positive and outside of the sewers had never lost her cool, yet she now sounded close to the edge. Jeral knew he needed to get them out of the caverns and quickly.

"Ok. Stay close to me and whatever you do keep up."

"I do not like the sound of that. What are you thinking?"

Jeral winked as his sister and smiled. "Trust me." With a roar Jeral took off down the hall at a sprint carried along on his enchanted boots. Imoen watched him take off and paused, wondering if he had finally snapped.

Jeral extended his arm and pointed the newly discovered fire wand at the undead creatures. A massive ball of fire flew out from the wand and exploded in the midst of the creatures. The explosion blasted many of the creatures to bits and a second fireball quickly blasted a path through the remainder.

Imoen sprinted to catch up to her brother and weaved her way through the piles of bones strewn about the floor. Some of the skeletons were still moving and struggling to stand. Imoen nimbly jumped over a few and raced after Jeral. Jeral raced through the hall of pillars and leapt up a set of stairs at the other end. He turned a corner and was quickly lost from sight. Imoen raced up the steps and sprinted around the corner desperate to catch up to her brother. Imoen turned the corner and skidded to a stop inches before she slammed into her brother's back.

Jeral held the wand of fire out in front of his body and slowly moved it from side to side. A molten jet of fire washed from one side of the passageway to the other incinerating everything it touched. Imoen watched transfixed as a dozen doppelgangers burned to death in front of her eyes. Their inhuman screams caused her to shudder in revulsion. Jeral kept spraying the hallway with fire until the wand started to smoke and shudder in his grasp. Jeral finally ended the spell and the wand crumbled to dust in his palm, the last of its magic expended.

Jeral was breathing heavily from exertion and his eyes were twitching as his head snapped nervously from side to side looking for danger. Imoen patted Jeral on the shoulder and her touch seemed to snap him out of it. Jeral quickly blinked and then looked numbly at his sister.

"What happened here Jeral?"

"I killed all of our friends?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I killed them. I killed Winthrop, Tethtoril, Hull, all of them. I lost control and I burned all of them alive. You saw it. I, I think I lost control. I think I am losing sway to my blood."

Jeral squatted down on his haunches and buried his face in his hands.

Imoen knelt down next to him and spoke in a low soothing voice. "Those were not our friends. Those were shape changers, disguised to look like our friends. You saw through the illusion and saved our lives. They were too many. Had they gotten any closer we would be dead right now."

"I know what I saw."

Imoen stood up and slapped Jeral roughly on the back of the head.

"Bollocks. If that was the real Tethtoril he would have protected all of them from the affects of your wand. If he is enough of a mage to bend the wards of the castle and teleport us here then he is enough of a mage to stop you and a simple wand of fire. It was an illusion, accept it and move on. Now get up and get moving before I hit you again."

Jeral pulled himself to his feet and rubbed the back of his head. Smiling sheepishly he hugged his sister.

"Thanks. I think I knew at some level they were shape changers but you definitely smacked some sense into me to help me believe it. We have to be near the exit. Let's get out of this hole."

The pair warily picked their way down the scorched hallway maneuvering around steaming piles of smoldering grey flesh. The hallway ended abruptly in a low pile of rubble. The wall in front of the siblings had collapsed revealing a large cavern on the other side of the wall. The faint sound of crashing waves reached their ears and they realized that their escape from Candlekeep was nearing an end. The ocean meant freedom and a reunion with their ship. The pair eagerly slipped through the wall into the cavern beyond.

Unlike the catacombs they had just left the cavern was clearly natural and untouched by human hands. As they moved out from the light of the catacombs they moved into pitch blackness for there were no enchanted torches or other sources of light to guide their way. Jeral grasped Imoen's right hand with his left and slowly led the way forward, long sword held at the ready. The rushing and crashing of the waves covered the sound of their shuffling steps as they crept forward. Jeral had only reached a count of thirty paces when a faint glimmer of light caught his eye in the distance. Jeral sheathed his sword and lowered himself to the ground, pulling Imoen down as he did. A hushed conversation found the pair slowly slithering forward as carefully and quietly as they could manage over the rough cavern floor.

Jeral reached the edge of the circle of light and cautiously peered around the corner. To his dismay he observed a heavily armed quartet of assassins standing ready. Fortunately for the siblings they were looking in the opposite direction and had not detected their approach. They were obviously waiting for he and Imoen to arrive. Jeral took a deep breath and eyed the four carefully. All looked experienced, determined, and very, very dangerous. The first assassin wore black studded leather armor and carried a silver throwing axe that gleamed brightly in the torchlight. Even from the distance Jeral could not miss the enchantment of the weapon. The second assassin wore a set of black chain mail and held a long bow at the ready. The third man wore a suit of plate mail and closed faced helm with demon horns atop it. In his left hand he held a torch aloft while his right carried a flail with two wicked looking barbed flail heads. The forth man was the tallest of the group and wore blood red mage robes. He leaned lazily against the far wall and was cleaning his fingernails with the point of a large throwing dart.

Jeral slowly pushed himself backwards out of the light and back into the comforting blackness. After he scrambled back a dozen paces he pulled Imoen's face in close to his own. In hushed whispers they discussed their next moves.

"They have to be waiting for us. No other explanation makes sense. Sarevok must have heard of our escape from the dungeon and sent them to ensure we did not make it out of here alive."

"Is there any way around them?"

"I don't think so. The sound of the sea is loudest on the other side of their position. That is the most likely path out of here. If we try and go around them who knows what else we may blunder into in the dark?"

"Ok, makes sense to me. Any chance you can take a few down with a spell or scroll?"

"No chance. I do not know many spells and would need to ditch my armor to cast any of them."

"Well that leaves your scrolls, I know one can cast them while wearing armor because the enchantment is powered by the scroll and not the caster."

"True, however I cannot read them in the dark and if we light a torch they will be all over us before I can cast anything."

"Ok, so we need to hit them hard and fast and not give them any chance to recover."

"Agreed. I will send a couple arrows their way, once the second one explodes we charge. If you can take out the mage first we may survive this. I will start with the fellow in the plate mail and we will meet in the middle."

"Fair enough, how many of those neat little things do you have left?"

"Fourteen, twelve after we are done here."

"Well don't lose them because they have saved our hide a few times already."

"Jeral pulled out a pair of arrows and gently felt the tips to ensure he had selected the correct arrows. Nocking the first one to the bow he started slowly moving forward. Once he was certain he had a point of aim close to the first assassin he let the arrow fly. Before it detonated he nocked the second arrow and sprinted forward. The initial arrow hit the far stone wall and exploded with a roar. A wave of heat, fire and stone fragments washed over Jeral as he skidded around the corner and dropped to a knee. He quickly drew the second arrow back to his ear as he took in the scene before him.

His first arrow had exploded in the wall closest to the archer. That man was rolling on the ground screaming as he struggled to staunch the flow of blood coming from his left leg. It looked like a large stone fragment had cut the leg off mid thigh. The color was rapidly draining from his face and Jeral realized he was looking at a dead man. Jeral scanned to the right and saw the mage jerk upright as a pair of throwing knives buried themselves in his chest. The other two assassins were already readying a counter attack. The plate clad assassin had dropped the torch and was chanting rhythmically. Jeral realized the man was a cleric and he had to interrupt the man's casting if he and Imoen had any chance to survive. Jeral aimed in and prepared to loose his arrow.

A glimmer of silver in his peripheral vision pulled his gaze to the left. The axe wielding assassin was pulling his arm back to attack the charging Imoen as she drew a new pair of throwing knives. Fearing for his unarmored sister Jeral twisted left and fired off a snap shot at the assassin. His arrow struck the man in the side an instant after he hurled his axe at Imoen. The man's body exploded in a bloody cloud as the arrow detonated. The blast hurled Jeral to the floor and he could only stare transfixed as the ax hurled end over end towards Imoen. Time seemed to almost stop as Jeral watched the ax float through the air. He could see the exquisite craftsmanship that went into the forging of the weapon and the runes of the blade glowed in the firelight. It was well aimed, razor sharp, and headed directly for Imoen's head. Just when it seemed the ax could not miss Imoen dropped to her knees and slid forward across the rubble strewn floor. The ax skimmed inches from her head and slammed into the wall beyond her.

Once clear of the danger Imoen nimbly hopped to her feet and hurled a pair of knives at the conjuring cleric. The first arrow bounced harmlessly off his chest plate but the second struck the man through the chain protecting the armpit under his upraised left arm. The man roared in pain and his conjuring ceased immediately. He lunged forward and swung his flail at Imoen. Imoen's forward momentum carried her into range of his weapon and she twisted sideways to try and escape the attack. Imoen flung up her left arm to protect her face and the flail struck home with a sickening crack as her arm shattered under the blow. Imoen was flung to the ground and landed in a heap next to Jeral.

Imoen clutched her damaged arm with her other arm and struggled to get back to her feet as she gritted her teeth against the pain. Jeral released his long bow and leapt to his feet with a roar. Unsheathing his long sword he turned away the next flail strike inches from Imoen's head. Jeral quickly transitioned to the attack and rained blow after blow on the cleric's plate armor. The attacks did no real damage but they slowly forced him onto the defensive and backed him away from Imoen. Jeral felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest as his anger slowly built as he thought of Sarevok's treachery, their unjust imprisonment in Candlekeep and the horrors they had faced in the catacombs. Jeral watched as the cleric swung his flail in a side armed swing at Jeral's left side. Jeral grasped his sword in two hands and swung at the man's helmet.

The antagonists struck one another simultaneously. Jeral felt several ribs break as the flail dug into his side and the barbs penetrated through the enchanted links of his mail. Jeral's strike his the man solidly on the side of his head and knocked the helm off his head with a loud _KLANG_. The man blinked twice and shook his head vigorously to shake off the affects of the blow. Jeral backpedaled warily and held his sword in a low guard protecting his injured left side. The cleric grinned evilly showing a set of white teeth filed to points. He grasped his flail firmly with both hands and moved towards Jeral.

"I need to thank you lad. Killing me mates means that I do not have to share the reward with anyone. And I am gonna have some fun with that pink haired lass before I kill her too."

"Not a chance lover."

Imoen's voice caused both men to look to the side. Imoen stood unsteadily on her feet and flicked her right wrist. A throwing knife appeared in the man's throat and he struggled to breathe. Imoen flicked her wrist again and a knife embedded in the man's left eye. He dropped his flail and pulled both knives from his skin. Jeral watched horrified as the man's eyeball came out on the end of Imoen's blade. The man swayed on his feet as blood poured from his throat. Imoen walked up and kicked viciously at the side of his knee and watched as it buckled and he fell to the ground. Imoen dropped to her knees and buried a knife in the top of his head. She watched as the life left his body and then she got up and started to calmly collect her knives from the corpses strewn around the pair.

Jeral quickly unstoppered a healing draught and handed it to Imoen. She gulped it all down in one swig and tossed the vial to the ground. Jeral pulled out a second potion and chugged the contents down. The enchanted potion started knitting his ribs back together and stopped the bleeding. Having managed the worst of the pain Jeral quickly eyed the scene looking for valuables. He grabbed the enchanted throwing ax and tossed it in the bag of holding along with a couple very heavy coin purses.

The pair then again slowly started shuffling their way in the dark always heading towards the sound of water. As they crept their way through the darkness the pair heard the occasional shuffling sounds off in the darkness but fortunately managed to avoid any other dangers. The sounds of the ocean grew larger and larger and the air soon became clammy with the smell of the sea. After what felt like hours of endless shuffling in the dark they finally saw a faint glimmer in the distance. Excited by the prospects of escape the pair started to walk faster. As they moved forward they could see an opening in the distant wall of the cavern and the red of a evening sunset. Abandoning any stealth at all Imoen whooped in delight and took off at a run, awkwardly trying to sprint while holding her injured left arm with her right. The cave opened up into the stony shore.

"This is almost high tide, we must be right under Candlekeep, if we can edge along the rocks to the left we should reach the small beach where the boat dropped us off."

Imoen pointed out to sea and jumped up and down excitedly as she waved her uninjured arm wildly over her head.

"There is the Blade! There is the ship! We made it!"

Jeral stood mutely as he watched his sister celebrate and attract the attention of the ship. A sudden burst of activity on deck showed that the crew had spotted them. They quickly launched the skiff and Niklos helmed the small boat as the quartet of sailors rowed it towards them.

"Well looks like you friend is going to pick us up here. I suspect he wants to get us on board before the sun goes down."

"Won't it be dangerous bringing the ship in so close to the rocks?"

"Imoen, we need to assume that he and the crew know what they are doing."

Sure enough within an hour the pair were safely back onboard and the ship had weighed anchor back to Baldur's Gate. Niklos called for food, wine and the ship's healer to be brought to his cabin. As the healer tended to their wounds Imoen and Jeral wolfed down a fish stew, black bread and a spicy red wine. Niklos allowed them to eat in silence and then dispatched the healer.

Once the three of them were alone in his cabin he began, "I am delighted to see you two again. Where are your companions?"

"They were falsely imprisoned and are on their way back to Baldur's Gate for execution at the next full moon. Jeral and I managed to escape."

"Well we can be back in the city in two days time if the weather holds. Plenty of time for you to plan a way forward."

"The way forward is unchanged Niklos. We will destroy the Iron Throne and kill Sarevok."

"After we free our friends," Imoen hastily added.

"Why just kill Sarevok? Reiltar is the real power of the Iron Throne in the city. Sarevok is just his son."

"Sarevok killed them all, he is now leader of the Iron Throne and he killed my father."

"And sent assassins to kill us in the catacombs."

"And send assassins to kill us in the catacombs," Jeral parroted.

"Well I will aid you as I can for we still have a desire to see the Iron Throne taken down a notch." Niklos stood up and moved towards the door.

"Where do you think you are going?" Imoen purred towards the thief.

"You and Jeral have been through much. Make your selves comfortable and rest. I will see you in the morning."

"Sod that, Jeral can sleep on deck with the crew. You are not going anywhere."

Knowing how to antagonize Imoen Jeral could not resist.

"Imoen, I think Niklos is right. I am very tired and my ribs ache from my injury. A night in a real bed would work wonders."

The throwing knife missed by less than an inch and buried in the bulkhead behind Jeral.

Smiling he stood up and bowed once to Imoen.

"Suddenly I am feeling much better. Nothing would make me happier than a night sleeping under the stars."

"Good decision, good night Jeral."

"Good night Imoen, sleep well."

Jeral headed up and deck and was soon asleep under the stars. For the first time in weeks he slept deeply and did not dream.


	31. Chapter 31: The Rescue

_Getting real close to the end of the story. Hopefully I will stay on schedule and finish by the end of the month. Fingers crossed. JCL1371_

Chapter 31 – The Rescue – Day 100

The Maiden's Blade glided smoothly up to the dock and gently bumped into the pier. Her sailors nimbly leapt onto the dock and secured the galley fast to the pilings. Niklos led Imoen and Jeral on deck and smiled broadly as he eyed all the activity that surrounded them. The piers were crowded with fishing vessels' bringing in their catch for sale in the markets. People were everywhere, and the docks were a hive of activity as ships loaded and unloaded cargo in the late morning sunshine. Their ship was merely one of dozens that were in the process of entering or departing the small docks area of Baldur's Gate. The few guards and customs officials were overwhelmed by the press of people coming and going.

"You see my friends, had we tried to enter late last night when we arrived we would have aroused intense suspicion. By waiting til late morning we glide in just one ship amongst dozens. Sometimes one can hide best in plain sight. Given all the ships here the customs inspectors and soldiers will not even get to our ship for hours. I have dispatched the captain to pay our toll at the Harbor Master's building."

Niklos snapped his fingers and half a dozen sailors quickly formed a circle around the trio and they walked down the gangplank onto the pier. Within minutes they were lost in the crowds of the city and the sailors quickly departed, leaving the three to make their way to report to Endar Sai. Niklos walked briskly and led the way from one alley to another, always ensuring that they minimized their time on the heavily patrolled main streets of the city. The trio walked for what felt like hours before Jeral finally started to lose his patience.

"Niklos, you do know where we are going don't you?"

"Jeral is right sweetie, we have been walking for ages and I am getting hungry."

Niklos smiled brightly at Imoen and slowed his pace.

"My apologies Imoen. And my apologies to you too Jeral. I needed to ensure that we were not watched before I dare meet with Endar Sai."

Niklos stopped in front of a building and motioned the pair to the door. Jeral eyed the building critically. It was a tavern that showed the signs of recent repair. The front windows were all new and the paint on the wooden window frames did not quite match the more weathered paint of the shutters and the surrounding building. The door to the tavern was also new and was made of heavy iron reinforced oak. Swinging above the door was a crude illustration of a man on fire and the words 'The Burning Bandit' were carved above the illustration and painted in silver.

Imoen grabbed Niklos by the arm and roughly spun him around.

Poking him in the chest she angrily growled at him, "I know this tavern. A girl never forgets a place where an ogre threw her through a window. This is the Blushing Mermaid! What is going on here?"

Jeral lowered his hand to the hilt of his long sword and took a step back from Niklos. "Do we have a problem here Niklos?"

Niklos held his arms out to his sides and kept his hands unclenched. "I assure you, this is where I was told to bring you. Please come inside and all will be explained." Jeral and Imoen shared a look and decided that they could trust him a bit further. Imoen stepped back and pulled out a throwing knife. "Lead the way Niklos. Just know that if this is a trap you will die before they can get to us."

Niklos swallowed nervously as he eyed the pink haired woman before him. "I assure you this is no trap. And I much prefer it when you call me sweetie."

"Well if this is not a trap and you buy me lunch then maybe we can get back on friendlier terms."

Niklos pushed open the heavy oaken door and led the way indoors. The common room was well lit and comfortably appointed with a dozen round tables, all with a quartet of comfortable chairs. The bar was polished to a shine and the dozen bar stools all looked brand new. A half dozen women bustled about straightening tables and bringing bags of produce into the kitchen. The only unusual feature of the place was the total absence of customers. At mid day the tavern should be crowded with patrons looking for a meal or their first drink of the day.

"Well what do you think of my latest venture?"

Jeral and Imoen whirled around to face the voice and watched as Endar Sai languidly walked down the stairs into the common room. Clad in a sky blue tunic, silver vest and dark green pants he looked every inch a prosperous businessman.

"You own the Blushing Mermaid?"

"My dear Imoen, after your unfortunate experience here I had a long chat with the owner and he decided that my gold was more appealing than that of the Iron Throne."

"So he sold you the tavern?"

A small smile flickered across the master thief's face before he returned to his normal impassive gaze.

"There was something about the owner having reluctance to sell. But we managed to get past that. Suffice it to say money changed hands and I now own this fine establishment. I have even spent some funds upgrading this place to better suit my needs. While we are not yet open to the public we do have an excellent cook and lunch will be served in a few minutes."

Endar walked over to his son and embraced him in a brief hug before he led them to the table furthest from the front door. Endar held out a chair for Imoen. Once she was seated Endar sat in the seat facing the front door and motioned the other two to their respective chairs. A pair of the serving maids dropped off plates of fresh bread, fruit and cheese while a third dropped off mugs of ale. Endar took a deep drink of his beer and then signed contentedly.

"The ale maker knows his craft, this is excellent." Endar eyed Imoen and Jeral and smiled broadly at the pair.

"Relax, you are quite safe here. I have men watching all the doors and have paid off the local watch commanders. We will not be bothered here. Eat, drink, and I will let you know where things stand."

"Again we thank you for your kindness."

Endar waved a hand dismissively. "Jeral, think nothing of it. The disruption you and your friends have caused the Iron Throne is more than enough payment for me."

"We have so much to tell you father."

"I find that unlikely Niklos. I am well aware of everything that happened at Candlekeep."

He then looked pointedly at Imoen and arched an eyebrow.

"I am also aware of everything that happened upon my ship you naughty girl. Your antics even made sailors blush." Imoen's face reddened as she looked down hastily and drained her mug of ale.

"Where is Sarevok?"

"It pains me to admit Jeral but I do not yet know where he is. I am currently making inquiries. Of more immediate concern is that everyone is looking for you two. You and your sister are wanted for crimes against the realm. Soldiers, bounty hunters and average citizens are looking for you everywhere. There is a reward of 3,000 pieces of gold on each of your heads, dead or alive."

"Well Endar, it seems we will once again need to impose on your hospitality and ask for your assistance. For we have much to do."

"Yes, yes, yes I know what you need to do Jeral. You need to rescue your friends before they are executed and then confront and defeat Sarevok."

"That is exactly what Imoen and I need to do."

"And you shall have the assistance of the thieves' guild. For now rest and remain calm. Your friends will not be here for days and the new leader of the Iron Throne has gone missing." Endar clapped Jeral on the shoulder and rose from the table.

"What are we supposed to do until you know more?"

"My dear girl, you and Jeral will have to stay here. If you are found on the street all is lost. Remain here, you will be quite comfortable. I have adequate rooms upstairs and the basement is now a weapons training room. Niklos and I will gather the information needed on your friends and see what we can find out about Sarevok as well."

"Niklos can't stay?"

"I am sorry my dear girl but Niklos has his duties with the guild to attend to. I am sure he will make himself available when he can. In the meantime if you need anything ask Vanessa as she is my new innkeeper. Come Niklos."

Endar strode out of the tavern with a reluctant looking Niklos following close behind.

Day 102

"Endar, this training room is very impressive."

"Well we needed a new training space so this worked out quite nicely. Now you said you wish to learn to fight with two weapons?"

"Yes."

"Well I warn you it is very difficult skill to learn and even more challenging to master. If you do not commit to extensive practice and study then you will not succeed. However if you can master dual wielding you will become a match for almost any swordsman."

"Understood."

"Let's start you off with short swords. Once you learn the basics of dual wielding from using those you can mix and match blades to suit your preference."

Endar pointed to a weapons rack full of wooded practice weapons and Jeral picked up a pair of wooden short swords. Endar picked up a pair of curved wooden fighting knives that looked like mirror copies of his real blades.

Jeral hefted the blades in his hands and grunted, "These are heavier than I expected."

"We line the interior of the blades with lead. It strengthens the wood blade and also aids in strength training. If you learn to fight well with these you will be even faster when you use real weapons."

Endar stood with his legs shoulder width apart and slowly moved through some basic attack moves. He watched as Jeral copied his actions step for step.

"Very good Jeral. These are the basics forms you will use to fight; attacking with each hand, parrying with each hand and the two weapon parry. Master these steps and we can build from there. Keep working on the forms until they are second nature. As they start to feel natural you can increase the speed."

Endar placed his blades on the weapons rack and headed for the stairs. Jeral stopped in mid swing and started at the master thief. "Where are you going? I thought you were going to train me."

Endar paused halfway up the stairs and turned back briefly.

"My dear fellow, I am training you, but I also have a guild that requires my attention and issues with the Iron Throne that still are unresolved. Work these forms today. Tomorrow I will have the weapons master provide you with some sparring partners. If you get good enough I will spar with you myself, but let us not be too hasty with that. I will see you again at dinner this evening. Fare the well."

Day 105

Despite his earlier promises Endar was not at dinner as promised. Nor did he appear on the following day, or the day after that. While Jeral was worried Imoen was frantic for she had not see Endar's son Niklos for days and feared the worst. The siblings badgered Vanessa for updates and any news but she was unable to provide any insight. By the third day she too started to worry. Jeral and Imoen agreed that they would depart at first light the following day if they did not see Niklos or Endar before then.

While Imoen paced the tavern frantically and tossed knives into targets in the common room Jeral channeled his anxiety and frustration more productively spending long hours each day in the basement sparring room. After three long days of practice Jeral was starting to feel comfortable fighting with matched blades. Alatosi, the guild weapons master was working closely with Jeral to improve his skills. The first day she provided him with a wooden dummy as an opponent. The next day he sparred with some of the more junior thieves and a few of the mercenaries the guild retained as muscle. Pleased with his progress Alatosi had promised to spar with him personally.

Jeral picked up his training blades and tuned to face Alatosi. She was not attractive in a traditional sense but there was something Jeral found very appealing about her. She was slightly taller than Jeral and thicker across the torso. Her sharply angular face was framed by short white hair and a thin metal band encircled her head. Her heavily muscled arms were covered with an intricate tattoo of small green leaves that ran from her shoulders to the middle of each arm. She wore a dark brown leather vest that was covered with iron rings over a thin white tunic with the sleeves rolled up to her shoulders. Her legs were covered by matching leather pants, instead of iron rings the pants were covered by intricate patterns in silver thread. Jeral looked at her and imagined that she was more suited to living amongst the elves as a warrior. The thought of Alatosi with pointed ears brought a smile to Jeral's face.

"I am glad you are feeling so confident Jeral, I would hate to see that you were afraid of me."

Alatosi twirled a katana and short sword in an intricate pattern in front of Jeral.

Showing bravado he did not feel Jeral puffed up his chest and held his training blades at a high guard position. "I was just admiring your tattoos. You look like an overgrown elf."

"Such cheek, I think I will make you eat those words little man."

Alatosi held up her blades in a quick salute that Jeral returned. Once the weapons master dropped the salute she lunged forward with the katana. Jeral threw himself backwards and the blade missed by a finger's breath. Not allowing Jeral a chance to recover Alatosi followed up with an overhand slash with the short sword held in her left hand. Jeral crossed his blades over his head to block the attack. His arms trembled from the force of the blow. Just after her short sword was parried she snapped the katana back forward. Jeral quickly stepped back and dropped his left arm. His short sword met the katana and drove it into the ground. Sending that his opponent was off balance Jeral dropped his shoulder and drove it forward. He struck Alatosi with a solid blow and she merely grunted and retaliated by slamming a pommel hilt into his shoulder.

Jeral backpedaled and rotated his arm to ensure he still had use of it after her strike. He was pleased to see that his shoulder block had caused her some discomfort for the large woman had to pause and catch her breath. Smiling wolfishly she advanced on Jeral.

"I do love a challenge. Apparently there is more to you than meets the eye."

Jeral had an instant to notice that she had a lovely smile and a perfect set of white teeth before he was parrying blow after blow as she moved forward across the room. Her arms were a blur as she rained down blow after blow on him. Jeral was please to see that he could block each of her attacks but her speed and aggression ensured that he could not find an opportunity to counter attack. Jeral continued to backpedal away from her attacks and she pressed them with a relentless aggression. Jeral's arms started to tire and sweat poured down his face as the pair continued to battle.

"Well if nothing else you have learned a proper defense, that is a start."

Alatosi's words sounded almost like a complement; however Jeral did not have the time to feel flattered since he was struggling to stay upright under her unrelenting assault. Sensing Jeral's weariness the weapons master redoubled her assault and Jeral was forced to abandon any hope of attack in order to prevent her attacks from striking home. She would attack high, Jeral would parry, she would attack low and Jeral would either parry or step back. Jeral could not find a way through her defense.

"Jeral! Stop loafing around. We have word from Endar."

Imoen had to shout to be heard over the clatter from the wooden blades. Jeral automatically looked over to the stairs and saw Imoen standing next to a very distressed looking Niklos. Jeral turned back just in time to see Alatosi sweeping both blades down at Jeral's knees. With no time to parry the blow Jeral jumped in an effort to avoid the blades. Mid swing his opponent adjusted her swing and swept upwards. Her blades caught Jeral in the lower legs and she followed through lifting her practice blades to the ceiling. Her quick upward swing launched Jeral's legs up towards the ceiling and his back slammed into the floor. Alatosi planted a massive foot in the center of Jeral's chest and a wooden katana rested gently against Jeral's throat.

Back aching, chest heaving Jeral looked up into the smiling gaze of the weapons master.

"This is where you yield Jeral."

Smiling Jeral could only shake his head slowly and agree as he loudly yielded to the better swordsman. Alatosi lifted Jeral to his feet and placed all four practice blades on the weapons rack. Imoen quickly walked over to stand next to Jeral and the smirk on her face spoke volumes.

"I see you got beat by a girl."

"Yup."

"You okay with that?"

Jeral smiled and kissed Imoen on the forehead.

"I hate losing I really do. But when I do my best and lose to someone who is simply better there is no honor lost. I am content. Besides, it serves as motivation to keep me training."

"If you keep practicing you can be a great swordsman Jeral. I am very impressed how quickly you have picked up dual wielding. Most take months before they can even master the basics. You are a natural, your instincts are good and your reflexes are excellent."

"Maybe so but you still beat me pretty easily."

"I would be a poor weapons master for the guild if I let myself get beat by a beginner. Even such a talented one as you. "

Niklos walked down the stairs and cleared his throat loudly. "I bring dire news from my father."

"What news?"

Niklos, waved away the question.

"Not now we must move quickly. Please clean up, then gather up all of your equipment and arm yourself. We leave the tavern within the hour. I will explain as we go."

Within the hour Jeral and Imoen were back down in the tavern common room and ready to depart. Niklos and Alatosi were huddled close together at a table deep in conversation. Alatosi had also cleaned up and armed herself. She was wearing a long silver chainmail tunic that left her arms bare. A pair of heavy metal bracers covered her forearms. A short sword was tied down on her left thigh and an ornate katana rested in a scabbard on her left hip. The packs on the table indicated that both were soon leaving and may not return for some time.

"Ok Niklos we are here. What is the news? Out with it."

"Jeral, you and Imoen have to trust me. There is little time and we must leave now."

Jeral grabbed Niklos roughly by the arm and pulled him in close. "My patience is wearing thin Niklos. Start talking." Jeral heard the sound of a blade drawn from its scabbard behind him. A warning glance from Niklos and the blade returned to its scabbard.

"Very well Jeral. The scheduled execution of your companions was moved up. Your friends are to be killed at midnight tonight in the square in front of the Elfsong Tavern. They are scheduled to cross the bridge into the city in less than six hours."

Imoen clapped her hands excitedly and pried Jeral's hands off Niklos.

"That is perfect, that is right next to your guild headquarters, that will make things so much easier."

"How do you know where we keep our headquarters?"

"Please, I know what a thief looks like. The whole time we stayed at the Elfsong I saw them coming and going. I believe it is the old yarn how it takes one to know one. You may fool the locals but not me."

"Well it matters not for the guild is not going to help us."

"What?" Jeral and Imoen exclaimed in unison.

"I fear we have underestimated the Iron Throne. Sarevok has wasted no time on consolidation his power and weakening his enemies throughout the city. In the past three days dozens of guild members have been killed or imprisoned. Even worse than that it appears that many were paid to betray their fellow guild members and turn their support to the Iron Throne. The guild leadership has decided to retreat from the fray and salvage what they can. They will no longer cross the Iron Throne. You will get no more support from the guild."

"Has Endar turned on us?"

Niklos pulled himself upright and shot a look of pure contempt at Jeral.

"My father has sacrificed everything for you. He has left the guild over this. To him it is a simple matter on honor and he will not rest until the Iron Throne and Sarevok are destroyed."

Niklos looked down and the floor and continued softly.

"Everything my father worked so hard to build is gone. Almost all of his friends and apprentice thieves have forsaken him. I am all he has left."

"No Niklos. He also has me. I will stand beside you and your father. I owe him my life."

"My thanks Alatosi. My father knew that you would say that and he gladly will accept your support. We must leave now. I am sure the guild has notified the Flaming Fist of your location, we are no longer safe here."

The four quickly shouldered their equipment, pulled their cloaks tight around their faces and walked out into the late afternoon sun. Niklos moved quickly and led the small group through the streets. He steered the group safely away from the heavy patrols on the main streets and Jeral recognized familiar landmarks as the group neared the Elfsong Tavern. The main gate out of the city was opened and traffic was heavy as travelers hurried to enter the city before dark. Niklos passed the tavern and crossed through the great square where soldiers were laying out four large wooden stumps that would serve as blocks for the headman's ax.

As Jeral eyed the soldiers in the square he vowed to himself to free his companions no matter the risk. Niklos steered the foursome to a small house hard up against the outer wall of the castle. As he approached the house he threw back his cloak and loudly announced, "Woman, I am home. Fetch me some ale!" He banged the door open and strode in like he was a long lost traveler returning home. Jeral and Imoen followed closely on his heels and Alatosi entered last, closing the door after she entered. The house was small and furnished with cheap second hand furnishings. Despite the clear lack of wealth the home was spotless, neatly organized and the smell of chicken soup wafted through the air. They were in the home of someone with modest means but a definite sense of pride.

"Well look who is here, how lovely. And just in time for dinner." Endar Sai strolled out of the kitchen wearing a floral apron over his clothes.

"You seem very chipper for one who has lost everything. Where are the people who live here?"

"Yeah and nice apron."

"Ahhhhh Jeral and Imoen so glad we are together yet again. I have suffered some significant reverses in the past few days but all is not lost. I can yet have my revenge and restore my position. In some ways this is a relief for the situation with the guild has shown me who stands with me and who does not. It will make it much easier when the time of reckoning arrives. But enough about me let us eat and make plans to save your friends for time is short. Rest assured the owners of this house are alive and well. They have come into some newfound wealth and have been encouraged to visit Beregost for at least a month. "

Endar ushered the four to a small table and soon everyone was sitting in front of a bowl of steaming chicken soup. Plates of black bread, sliced apples and cheese and mugs of strong dark ale completed the meal. Jeral just sat and stared as the other four ate heartily. Alatosi noticed his lack of appetite and stopped eating. She leaned over and rested a large hand gently on his forearm.

"Jeral, there is one thing I have learned over the years. Before heading into danger it makes sense to eat and drink heartily for one may not get a chance to do so again."

"She is right Jeral. We will eat, then we will plan, then we will save your friends, kill Sarevok, destroy the Iron Throne and restore my place in the guild or die trying."

With that cheerful bouncing around in his mind Jeral ate heartily. Jeral realized that he was famished after the sparring session and he had seconds of everything. As he was sopping up the last remnants of the soup with a slice of bread Endar stood up and removed his apron.

"We have only one chance to rescue your friends. The Watchers will hand over the prisoners at the eastern foot of the Great Bridge. The prisoners will dismount from the wagon and two squads of soldiers will take custody of them. They will be searched for weapons and contraband and then marched across the bridge."

"I will not raise a hand against the Watchers under any circumstances, they are family."

"Well that is just as well for the bridge will be closed to non military traffic before they arrive so we cannot get to that end of the bridge. So once the soldiers escorting the prisoners arrive at the square they will hand them over to Captain Angelo and three score guardsmen."

"What is Angelo doing commanding the Fist anyway? What happened to Duke Eltan and Captain Scar?"

"Ahhhh well that is an unsettling tale Imoen. The Duke took ill suddenly and died in the Fist headquarters. He was a strong man who was never sick so his illness was unusual and likely a deliberate murder. Before he died he publicly named Captain Scar as Commander of the Flaming Fist."

"So how is Angelo in charge then?"

"Ah well that is a sad story. The night after he was named commander Captain Scar was murdered along with his entire family. Witnesses say a thin man and a fat woman entered into the home and killed everyone inside."

"I find it hard to believe that Scar was foolish enough to go about without guards."

"Well Jeral it seems Scar was trusting of the wrong officers. A Lieutenant Rollis led his guard detail and the soldiers were ordered away from their post minutes before the assassins arrived. Lieutenant Rollis is now the newly promoted Captain Rollis under Angelo."

"I liked Scar despite everything. And killing someone's family is beyond the pale. Rollis has to die."

"Imoen, I like your spirit. And as fortune would have it you may have the chance to personally sent him into the afterlife. Captain Rollis is commanding the prisoner escort into the city. Should you be willing to play a part in this rescue attempt we will ensure that he dies first at your hand."

Imoen grinned coldly and nodded her head once and she rubbed her hands together in anticipation. Niklos and Alatosi quickly cleared the table and Niklos unrolled a map of the courtyard and surrounding buildings and laid it flat on the table.

"Now here is what I suggest we do."

The next few hours passed in a blur as the group planned and prepared for the upcoming rescue. A single sharp rap on the door was the signal to send them all on their way. One of Endar's few remaining sources had alerted the group to the movement of the prisoners across the bridge. The group scattered to their assigned positions and awaited the arrival of the prisoners. Jeral crouched in deep shadows on the roof of the Elfsong tavern. His position on the western side of the square afforded him an excellent view of the soldiers forming up for the execution. On the far side of the square was the gate through which the prisoners would enter the city. Jeral had dressed in his darkest clothes and his chain mail armor was safely stowed away in Gorion's bag of holding. The armor would have made the climb to the rooftop more difficult. If all went well Jeral would not have to fight anyone up close and if he needed to run he would move all the more quickly without his armor.

Jeral watched as the soldiers in the square suddenly stiffened and formed into ranks. Jeral watched with clenched fists as Captain Angelo strode into the square followed by a tall man wearing clothes of the most expensive cut. Jeral instantly recognized Sarevok from their encounter in the Candlekeep Library. The pair of men were laughing and carrying on like they were best friends. Jeral picked up a flame arrow and drew it back to his ear as he sighted in on Sarevok. The man loomed large in his sight as he aimed in at the center of his chest. Jeral's fingers tingled with the knowledge that once he loosed the arrow Sarevok would die. Reluctantly, slowly, Jeral let the string loosen and he pulled the arrow from the bow as he crouched back down on the roof. He needed to stick with the plan. He could do nothing until Imoen gave the signal. Rescuing their companions had to come first, revenge would have to wait.

Jeral eyed the crowd searching for his sister. His eye settled on a woman of the night sauntering through the square in an outfit that left very little to the imagination. Wisps of sheer silk clung here and there leaving the woman nearly naked in the street. Dozens of soldiers and citizens stopped to gawk as the women brazenly exposed her wares. The harlot was holding onto the arm of a foppish looking man who stumbled along clearly very drunk. With a start Jeral realized that the harlot was Imoen in disguise and that meant that the drunk was Niklos. The pair giggled and stumbled their way to the gates just as the prisoner detail was coming into view. Jeral caught sight of the red headed Captain Rollis as he led the detail into the square.

Jeral realized that he could aid his sister without giving away the ambush. Jeral laid his bow down on the rooftop and dug into his scroll case. Quickly conjuring a small ball of light Jeral found the scroll he needed. He calmed himself and quickly read the enchanted runes off the scroll. As the words left his mouth they pulled the magic from the page and slowly drifted across the square as a translucent cloud. The scroll, its magic exhausted, crumbled to dust in his fingers as the spell floated across the square and landed on top of the squad of guards surrounding Captain Angelo and Sarevok. Jeral hastily picked up his bow and readied an enchanted flame arrow as he watched Imoen approach her target. The couple paused a few steps away from Captain Rollis and embraced passionately.

As the pair broke their embrace Jeral saw a blur of movement and a glint of metal. Suddenly Captain Rollis dropped to his knees and fell facedown into the square. Even from the distance Jeral could see the gout of blood from his neck as it pumped out onto the ground. Imoen dropped to a knee and a soldier in the front rank dropped with a pair of daggers embedded in his chest. Niklos hurled dart after dart into the first ranks of soldiers and soon a half dozen were wounded and lying on the ground. The other guards responded quickly. Four drew swords and raced for Imoen and Niklos while the other ten closed ranks around their prisoners. Niklos and Imoen clasped hands and started racing north to flee the square as quickly as possible.

Jeral saw motion in the center of the square. Captain Angelo had realized that an attempted prisoner rescue was underway and started shouting orders. He dispatched one squad to reinforce the prisoner escort and sent a second after the fleeing pair of assassins. While a handful of guards responded with alacrity most stood there looking blankly at one another. A few had even dropped their weapons and were removing their clothes. Jeral smiled as he watched Angelo start ineffectually beating his men with the flat of his sword. Thanks to Jeral's spell of confusion the prisoner detail would not get many reinforcements any time soon.

Jeral smiled as he aimed his bow squarely at Sarevok's chest. As this range he could not miss and the arrow would likely provide a mortal wound to the man's unarmored torso. Sighing in disappointment Jeral adjusted his aim and let fly. The minute the arrow left his bow the enchantment kicked in and a line of fire arched across the sky as the arrow flew across the square and struck into the back of a drover's cart parked on the far side of the square. Endar had assured Jeral that the cart would be there and that it would serve as a sufficient distraction and he was not disappointed. The arrow struck home and the cart instantly exploded in a massive ball of fire. A shock wave rolled across the square knocking many off their feet. The blast knocked down all the soldiers in the area and Jeral watched in satisfaction as Imoen and Niklos raced safely out of sight.

The sound of blades clashing drew Jeral's eye back to the gates and Jeral watched transfixed as Endar and Alatosi carved their way through the prisoner detail. Jeral flinched as a crossbow bolt struck the roof next to his foot. That arrow of fire had pointed out his position to everyone who was in the square. Jeral quickly trotted to the south side of the roof and jumped down to the ground. He quickly made his way to the southwest corner of the building and poked his head around the corner. Endar was cutting the prisoners free as Alatosi battled the last three guardsmen. Endar grabbed Dynaheir by the hand and the pair started sprinting south out of the square and towards Jeral. Minsc raced after his witch with the dwarf Yeslick close on his heels.

Jeral launched an arrow into one of the guards battling Alatosi and he fell with the arrow buried in his side. The remaining guard turned to flee and was quickly disemboweled by a vicious katana thrust. Jeral watched as Alatosi grasped Ajantis roughly by the forearm and pulled. The Paladin dug in his heels and shook her arm away. Jeral watched as she pointed and screamed and the paladin stubbornly crossed his arms and sat down in the square. A dozen soldiers were racing towards Alatosi with their weapons drawn. The weapon master eyed the approaching guards, screamed in frustration, and then set off at a dead run after Endar and the others. A couple well placed arrows from Jeral discouraged any further pursuit and the group fled into the night minus one paladin.

Endar led them to a small house a few blocks away from the Seven Suns merchant consortium. As he held the door open the others quickly entered. Endar closed and bolted the door and unshuttered a lantern on the table. Jeral quickly noticed that heavy curtains on all of the windows would ensure that no light was visible from the street. Dynaheir walked up and embraced Jeral, kissing him on each cheek. Minsc followed up by picking him up in a crushing bear hug and kissing him wetly on the forehead.

"We knew you would not forsake us Jeral. I am pleased to see you again."

"Minsc and Boo are pleased as well! That was a most butt kicking rescue."

"I be glad to see you too laddie. I am in your debt yet again. And that of the lass Imoen."

"Jeral where is Imoen?"

"Do not fear my lady Dynaheir. Imoen and my son have made their escape and they are now shopping."

Dynaheir fixed Endar with a withering gaze, "Shopping? At a time like this?"

"Yes."

"And why are they shopping in the middle of the night while the entire Flaming fist searches for them?"

"That is easy, tomorrow evening we will infiltrate the palace and kill Sarevok before they confirm him as the newest Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate."

"Endar I could have killed him this evening."

"Jeral, if you kill the man you create a hero. He must be publicly exposed as an enemy of the city before he dies else we will never clear our names."

"Where is Ajantis? He was with us on the bridge. You were the closest to him."

Dynaheir's quiet words silenced all other conversation as she fixed her gaze on the large weapons master.

Alatosi dropped her head and spoke barely above a whisper.

"He did not wish to be rescued. He remained behind, and said that he would not break the law no matter the reason."

Jeral went to bed cursing the inflexible morality of a paladin. His dreams were of Alatosi dressed in the revealing outfit that Imoen wore during the rescue. Jeral had not found himself attracted to anyone since Viconia and was surprised at himself for his current feelings. He forced them from his mind as he felt into an exhausted sleep.

Day 106

"Well it is just as well that Imoen is not here. She would hate getting into the sewers again."

"I have heard the tale of Imoen's last time in the sewer Jeral. I am not overly fond of this environment either. However Endar said that we need to get an invitation to the coronation. And the only one we have heard about is with a pair of assassins in the Undercellars. Rumor has it they this is the pair who killed Scar and his family. The invitation to the coronation was part of their reward for a job well done."

Alatosi led the way through the sewers as Dynaheir created a handful of small globes of light to float in the tunnel and light their way. Dynaheir, Minsc, and Yeslick had reclaimed all of their equipment from the bag of holding and looked exactly as Jeral remembered them. Alatosi led the group through a seemingly endless warren of tunnels that all looked the same. As the party moved forward Jeral thought he occasionally heard faint splashes in the distance but the party continued to move forward unmolested.

"Pardon the question but what is this Undercellar and why is it located in the sewers?"

Alatosi never broke stride as she answered Dynaheir.

"The founders of the city understood that man had a darker nature. The Undercellar was constructed in an effort to contain some baser elements of society in a way that limited their negative impact on the town."

Jeral asked, "what does that mean?"

"Jeral, our escort speaks plain enough. The Undercellar is where one goes when searching for Black Lotus, or companionship or even darker desires."

"The mage speaks true. Most entrances to the Undercellar are from the large merchant houses and the thieves' guild. We will attempt to enter through a little known entrance accessible from the sewer."

Eventually the group reached a large circular iron door mounted at the end of a tunnel.

Alatosi looked from one party member to the next as she laid a hand on the door.

"There may be guards down here. If we can avoid fighting them so much the better. We are looking for a pair of assassins named Slythe and Krystin for they have the invitation we need."

Alatosi wrenched open the iron portal and swung it open slowly. The door opened on well oiled hinges and a wave of noise and black lotus smoke assaulted the group. Alatosi led them into the Undercellar and paused to allow everyone to follow. The Undercellar was a large underground market place. A wide central hallway passed by dozens of alcoves on each side, each lit by a smoky torch or battered lantern. Scantily clad men and women lined every alcove on the left side. The alcoves on the right bore signs indicating they were black lotus dens, slave fighting pits and other dark attractions. Jeral recoiled in horror as he saw a man selling human skulls from a table near where they were standing.

Jeral was relieved to see the guards at the end of the hall looked at him with complete and utter indifference. Apparently the Flaming Fist held limited sway here for these guards wore the livery of various merchant houses.

A crossbow bolt shot out from the darkness and struck Dynaheir in the stomach. With a cry she collapsed to the ground and curled into a little ball. Yeslick threw down his war hammer and knelt by her side to render aid. A second bolt shot out from the darkness and struck Minsc in the chest. The bolt deflected harmlessly off his plate mail. Minsc drew his greatsword from the scabbard on his back and bellowed out a challenge to the unseen opponent.

"No one harms the witch Dynaheir and survives. Come and face the wrath of Minsc and Boo!"

A hush fell over the Undercellar as people quickly backed away from the main corridor into whatever alcove was closest to their location. Jeral knocked an arrow and scanned the hallway and Alatosi moved forward to stand next to Minsc as she drew her blades.

"Well well well. What have we here? It is Jeral and his merry band. This is too delicious. Here we were just discussion how to find you so we could kill you and now here you are. This is going to be a most profitable week for us."

A small, lean man strode towards the pair of warriors. He was thin and clad in a suit of well made black studded leather armor. His left hand wielded a wicked looking short sword while he clutched a buckler in his left. He had long greasy black hair that hung loose to his shoulders and sported a short pointed beard. He gazed and Minsc and Alatosi and smiled.

"Two against one, how sporting."

The small man leapt forward to engage Minsc and the weapons master. As he charged forward a pair of ogres appeared in front of Minsc and Alatosi. Momentarily startled the pair recovered quickly and engaged their new foes. The small man nimbly slipped between the ogres and stabbed out at Minsc. Sparks flew where his blade encountered plate mail but his repeated attacks quickly found the weak points in the man's armor. Time and time again the blade slipped through the chain mail protecting his joints and Minsc started bleeding from numerous small wounds. Forced to focus on the ogre Minsc could not defend himself from the small man's nimble attacks.

Alatosi dispatched one of the ogres with a katana thrust to the torso and quickly engaged the nimble man in black. He smoothly turned to face the large woman and turned aside each of her attacks with either a parry or a quick imposition of his buckler, all the while never losing the smile plastered on his face.

As they dueled a second pair of ogres winked into existence and Minsc was soon hard pressed against a trio of the beasts as Alatosi had reached a stalemate with her opponent. Jeral realized that he had to locate and kill the mage aiding the nimble assassin.

"Dynaheir, can you send your lights down the hallway a bit?"

Jeral did not look back for a reply but was rewarded with a quartet of lights unsteadily floating down the corridor. Jeral was relieved to see that Dynaheir still lived although the wobble of the globes indicated Dynaheir was struggling to concentrate on the simple incantation. As the lights floated down the corridor they revealed a large heavy set woman in purple mage robes in the center of the hallway. She was working on a new incantation and completely absorbed in her spell casting. She never even noticed the arrow until it penetrated deep in her chest. With a cry of pain she fell to the floor and lay still.

Hearing her cry the small assassin turned and gave a cry of anguish. Rounding on Jeral his face contorted into a mask of rage. "You killed my wife; your death will not be pleasant!"

"Please, I saved your life. A beast that size would crush one so puny as you."

Jeral's taunts made him even angrier and he hurled himself at the bard. Jeral dropped his longbow and quickly drew his long sword as he struggled to parry attack after attack. The man was so intent on killing Jeral that he never saw the katana blow that took his head and ended his life. Alatosi looted the corpses and came up with an ornate invitation in a blue envelope while Jeral picked up the assassin's short sword and examined it closely. The corner of the envelope was covered with blood but was otherwise intact. Alatosi waved it at the others.

"This is what we came for. We need to get back to the safe house and dress to impress for we have a coronation to attend."


	32. The Coronation

Chapter 32 - The Coronation – Day 106

_Getting very close to the home stretch! Not many more chapters left. Then on to Baldur's Gate II!_

_Bondari – Thanks for the comments as always. Alatosi is just someone I made up to fit into the story. Alatos is the name of the leader of the thieves' guild in Baldur's Gate. In the game I tend to refuse the quest and end up killing all of them so I needed to make a change for the story. So I took his name, added an 'I' and Alatosi was born. _

Jeral woke to the smell of roasted boar wafting through the house. Stretching out his aching shoulders Jeral slowly picked himself off the floor, inhaled deeply and slowly made his way downstairs. Jeral smiled as he watched Minsc and Alatosi arm wrestling in front of the others. Yeslick and Niklos were pointing and clapping while Imoen and Dynaheir quietly sat in the corner chatting as Imoen attempted to master the hand motions for some simple incantations. After a few short moments Minsc forcefully slammed Alatosi's arm down on the table. Alatosi smiled and patted Minsc on the shoulder and kissed the top of his shaved head as Niklos reluctantly handed a small handful of coins to the beaming dwarf.

"Well done. I usually am more than a match for any man so I must congratulate you. I rarely lose in any contest of strength or martial skill no matter how large my opponent." Alatosi shook out her arm and flexed her hand open and closed as she recovered from the competition. Minsc blushed and smiled down into his mug of ale. Endar strolled out of the kitchen holding a platter of steaming meat. He placed it down on the table and then brought out trays of fresh bread and cheese. He clapped his hands together happily as everyone sat down and started eating heartily.

"Please enjoy lunch, the boar turned out exceptionally tender. Afterwards relax for a while and then you must each make ready for the coronation. Remember, guests may not wear armor to the palace. Each attendee may bring a single blade but nothing more. If you look the part the guards will not check you for hidden weapons so you may bring extra blades should you wish. Your carriage will be here at the appropriate time and will take you directly to the Duchal Palace."

Imoen looked up with a mouth full of boar, "Wait, you said our carriage. You are not going with us?" Endar nodded slightly and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Unfortunately not my dear girl for I have issues of my own that require my undivided attention. While you are at the coronation preventing Sarevok from rising to the position of Grand Duke I will be visiting a few of the leaders of my former guild to express my displeasure with their recent actions against me." Looking at the angry glare Imoen was sending his way the thief hastily continued speaking.

"Do not look at me with such scorn and disappointment young one, for I have selfless motivations as well as my admittedly selfish ones. I will also ensure that your noble Ajantis stays alive until the Order can arrange for his release. Alatosi will escort the carriage and Niklos will attend the coronation with you. We have a few hours so make yourself comfortable until then."

Jeral dressed slowly and deliberately as he pondered the evening that lay ahead. The heavily enchanted short sword he pulled off the assassin in the Undercellar lay on the table in front of him next to his own enchanted blade. As he straightened out his jacket he strapped his short sword on his left hip and hid the newly acquired one in a scabbard in the small of his back. The bulk of his vest and jacket should shield the presence of the blade from all but the most persistent searchers. As Jeral made his way downstairs he looked fondly at his companions as they readied for the coronation. Minsc was dressed in a long blue overcoat over a sky blue shirt and dark green pants. Since a great sword was inappropriate for a coronation at the palace Minsc wore the heavily enchanted long sword normally carried by Ajantis on his left hip. On Minsc the sword almost looked like a toy. Despite the fine attire Minsc seemed strangely out of place without his armor and great sword and he fidgeted nervously with the collar of his shirt. Dynaheir and Yeslick were attired in fine robes of blue and brown respectively while Imoen was wearing one of her new outfits from Madame Clarisse.

Endar strolled into the house on and gazed around appreciatively as he eyed the well attired house guests. Unlike everyone else Endar was dressed for fighting. The master thief was wearing his armor and blades were visible on his legs and at his belt.

"Well everyone just looks lovely. Your carriage is ready. Niklos and Alatosi are outside waiting for you to join them. Please give my best to Sarevok and send him to the afterlife. I wish us both good hunting this evening and I pray we shall see one another again soon." Jeral and Imoen both embraced Endar warmly as they left the room and climbed into the waiting carriage. Jeral wondered if he would see the master thief again and wondered if any of them would survive the night.

The carriage made good time as crowds parted quickly for the quartet of horses pulling the ornate carriage thundering through the streets. The drawn curtains on the carriage ensured that the guards did not take any notice of the wanted party members as they made their way through the city. Alatosi rode atop the carriage with the driver, both attired as servants in the red and gold livery of the Grand Dukes. Jeral knew without having to ask that her blades were tucked in the footwells of the carriage in case she encountered any resistance on the way to the coronation.

Jeral sat quietly walking himself through various incantations to ensure they were ready in his mind in case he needed to use them at the coronation. Minsc continued to fidget with the tight collar on his dress shirt while Yeslick and Dynaheir sat quietly. Imoen practiced pulling throwing knives out of her sleeves and sliding them back in as she snuggled in close to Niklos. Niklos sat quietly slowly banging his head on the side of the carriage and looking unhappy.

"Niklos, why so gloomy?"

"I am just worried for my father Jeral. He should not be going out alone for he has many enemies within the guild."

"Sweetie, I would be worried more about us than Endar. We are walking into the palace despite having every soldier in the city out for our blood, we have no idea how to expose Sarevok, and our fighters left their armor behind."

"Technically Imoen everyone's armor is in my bag of holding but everything else you said is correct. Niklos you must have faith in your father's judgment and skill. I am sure that he will be fine. In fact I suspect that his odds of surviving tonight are better than ours."

"I hope you are right Jeral, I just cannot stop worrying."

Jeral leaned across the carriage and patted Niklos on the leg. The remainder of the ride passed in an uncomfortable silence as each wondered what lay ahead for them at the palace. The carriage lurched to a stop and the door was pulled open. Alatosi placed steps beneath the carriage opening and held out a hand as Imoen and then Dynaheir stepped down. As the men clambered down out of the carriage Alatosi walked up to the squad of halberd wearing guards that blocked entry to the palace and handed them the invitation for their review. The senior guard studied it intently and then handed it back to the weapons master.

"Present this to the steward inside and he will announce the party of Slythe and Krysten." Alatosi nodded, retrieved the invitation, and led the way into the palace.

Jeral watched as Alatosi slumped her shoulders inwards and walked with her head bowed, for all outward appearances just another humble servant doing the bidding for their master. A slight bulge in her robes was the only indication that anything was unusual about the servant for she carried her blades hidden beneath her robes, having transferred them from the carriage to her person. Imoen and Niklos led the way playing the role of the master assassins while Dynaheir, Minsc and Yeslick followed closely behind. Jeral lingered in the back and was the last one to enter the palace. He watched the guards closely to ensure that they did not notice anything amiss.

Alatosi led the way down the entry hall of the Duchal Palace through a long row of well dressed soldiers. Despite the celebratory nature of the event the Grand Dukes were clearly concerned about their security. The rich carpet muffled their footsteps as they strode down the hall. Jeral looked down at the carpet and realized that it detailed the history of Baldurain the legendary hero and founder of Baldur's Gate. Jeral stopped behind Yeslick as the party paused in front of a pair of large double doors that stood twice as tall as any man. A pair of servants pulled on a pair of large silver handles and the doors silently swung open. They revealed a large room full of richly attired nobles drinking and eating and carrying on as if they did not have a care in the world.

A heavyset man lumbered forward sweating profusely through his elaborate mass of blue and green silks. He mopped sweat off his brow with a large yellow kerchief and tucked it into the neck of his shirt. "Welcome to the Duchal Palace and the coronation of our savior Lord Sarevok. Please hand me your invitation so I may properly introduce you to the leading families of Baldur's Gate."

Alatosi handed over the invitation as Imoen and Niklos held hands and did their best to make themselves look like a renowned pair of master assassins.

"My Lords and Ladies allow me to present Master Slythe and Mistress Krysten and their associates." All eyes turned to watch as Imoen and Niklos strode into the coronation room. Over five score finely dressed members of the nobility milled about in the room while a score of elite guardsmen stood ready on the perimeter of the room. They walked directly to a servant carrying a serving tray of wine and Niklos grandly handed a glass to his wife and then took a second for himself. After a few moments of silence the noise level in the room returned and the group found themselves lost in the commotion of the celebration. They milled around on the edges of the crowd searching for Sarevok while attempting to blend in.

After little more than an hour trumpets sounded from hidden alcoves in the balcony and the room fell silent. All save the guards turned to look at small door inlaid with silver in the center of the northern wall. The door silently swung open and three richly attired nobles strode regally into the room. Jeral recognized each of them by sight. Lady Janneth led the way into the coronation room. Lady Janneth was an extremely attractive woman on indeterminate age dressed in sky blue mage robes inlaid with pearls and electrum thread. The badge that indicated she was one of the ruling Grand Dukes of the city was prominently displayed on the left breast of her robes. Lady Janneth carried an ebony staff in her left hand that radiated power that was apparent even to the casual observer. Rumor had it that she had some elven blood in her veins and that likely explained her still youthful appearance after three decades as a Grand Duke. Lady Janneth was known as one of the greatest wizards in the realm – equal in skill to Gorion – and managed to amass a significant fortune during her time as an adventurer. Local gossip stated that she had arrived in Baldur's Gate with an incredible amount of treasure and magical items from an unknown location. Her wealth, beauty, sharp mind, and magical abilities soon elevated her to prominence within the city and she was chosen for the ruling council less than a year after arriving in the city. As the longest serving surviving member of the council she now served as the senior Grand Duke and as such her voice would outweigh any other on the council.

The second of the Grand Dukes strode into the hall close on the heels of the half elven mage. Lord Belt was a fighter renown throughout the land for his skill as a swordsman. Lord Belt was no longer a young man but carried himself as a man decades younger with the solid build of a warrior. His handsome face was framed with a thick black beard that was just starting to show the first flecks of grey. Dressed all in white Belt wore his badge on a thick silver chain around his neck. Jeral sucked in his breath as he took in the weapon that sat on his right hip. The Duke carried the legendary sword of Baldurain and Jeral could only imagine what Lord Belt had done to gain possession of such a blade. The heavy enchantments on the blade were apparent across the room to Jeral. Each of the surviving Grand Dukes was an extremely powerful individual in their own right and clearly was comfortable serving in the role of ruler and defender of Baldur's Gate. Jeral was tremendously impressed by the pair of them.

The second man to enter the room stood in sharp contrast with Lord Belt and towered over him. Sarevok could not look more different than the aged fighter in front of him. Where Belt was bearded and wore his hair down to his shoulders Sarevok was clean shaven and his hair neatly shorn and perfectly groomed. Where Belt was dressed all in white Sarevok wore only black. Belt was not a small man by any measure and was solidly built; however he looked like a child compared to the massive man who followed him into the room. Despite the prohibition on armor Sarevok was clad in a fine suit of black chain mesh that rested comfortably under his tunic. A two handed sword hung diagonally on his back with the hilt of the blade sticking out over his right shoulder. Sarevok looked every inch a prospective Grand Duke and he surveyed the room with a broad grin on his handsome face. The smile faltered for an instant when he spotted Jeral but the cloud passed quickly over his face and the regal bearing returned.

The trio entered the coronation room and a servant quickly approached and handed each of them a jeweled goblet of wine. Belt raised his glass in a toast and announced proudly, "Lords and ladies, as you know we have two leadership openings in the city since the untimely deaths of Dukes Silvershield and Eltan. Lady Janneth and I have discussed the issue extensively. In troubled times such as these we require a Grand Duke who can provide strong leadership, one who has demonstrated a commitment to the safety of our city."

Lady Janneth continued the praise as she spoke in a high clear voice, "During the iron crisis we faced a real threat of having inadequate stocks of untainted ore to keep the Flaming Fist properly armed and equipped. As you all know the Fist is the shield that protects this lovely city from the dangers of the realm. The Iron Throne provided the city all the pure iron ore we needed and did so at no cost. This ensured that we were always prepared to stand firm against any threat. We thank you and the Iron Throne again for your generosity Lord Sarevok."

Sarevok nodded at the praise and drained his glass, a knowing smirk plastered on his handsome face.

Lady Janneth continued, "As the leader of the most prominent merchant house Lord Sarevok has the confidence of the business community and also counts the leader of the Flaming Fist as a close personal friend." All eyes turned to the far corner of the room where Captain Angelo raised a glass of wine in reply. Lady Janneth nodded back and continued, "After consultation with many of the leading families in the city we have come to the conclusion that Sarevok Anchev should become the next Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate."

Lady Janneth removed a badge of office from her robes and held it up over her head for all in attendance to view.

The hall erupted in applause and Jeral scanned the room warily. Surprisingly despite the roar of approval many in the room were not applauding. The score of guards in the room stood impassively as the wave of adulation washed over them. Jeral noted that his companions also all stood by watching the others applaud. Jeral also noticed a few dozen noblemen and women not applauding. Compounding their unusual lack of enthusiasm for the proceedings the same handful of nobles were slowly making their way forward to surround Lord Belt and Lady Janneth. As he focused on the stand out nobles something about them struck Jeral as odd. Something was not right. A heavy hand tugged on the sleeve of Jeral's jacket and he turned to see Minsc leaning in close to whisper in his ear.

"Boo says that some of the nobles are not really nobles. Minsc does not understand but Boo said Minsc had to tell you right away before it is too late."

Jeral nodded silently in reply and slowly moved towards the closest noble that was not applauding. Jeral slid behind the elderly looking gentleman clad in opulent robes of orange silk that were tied with a broad crimson sash. Something about the man struck Jeral as wrong but he could not determine why he felt the way he did. The man did not notice Jeral at all and continued sliding his way towards the Grand Dukes. The elderly man had closed to within arms reach of Lady Janneth's back. He raised a shaking hand covered in age spots and Jeral watched in horror as the fingers began to lengthen and start to resemble claws more than fingers. Regaining his senses Jeral drew his short sword and stabbed it into the small of the old man's back severing his spine and slicing through intestines and his stomach. The man howled like a wounded beast and a hush fell over the room as he collapsed to the floor. Jeral withdrew his blade and stared at it silently. Black blood coated the blade and dripped off onto the marble floor of the coronation room.

Lady Janneth whirled around to face the threat, made eye contact with Jeral and started muttering the words to a spell.

"My Lady! You and Lord Belt are under attack from shapeshifters. Many of these nobles are not what they seem. I am not your enemy."

Jeral raised his blade for her inspection and displayed the black blood to the powerful enchantress. Lady Janneth raised an eyebrow, ceased casting the spell she was preparing and forcefully slammed her staff onto the floor. The ebony staff shattered the marble of the floor and a wave of white light swept over the room forcing Jeral to shield his eyes from the brightness.

As Jeral struggled to regain his sight he heard a number of women start to scream and dozens of glasses shattering as they struck the floor. Lady Janneth's enchanted staff had forced the strangely behaving nobles to reveal their true forms. Approximately a score of dopplegangers had surrounded the pair of Grand Dukes.

"To me lads, protect Lady Janneth and kill these filthy creatures." Jeral watched in awe as Lord Belt drew the sword of Baldurain and beheaded one of the doppelgangers standing in front of him. The sword flashed and a stream of black blood drenched his white tunic as the beast fell at his feet. Lady Janneth muttered a word of power and her entire being turned gray and took on the consistency of stone. Jeral drew his second blade and attacked a second doppelganger as he heard Minsc and Yeslick uttering war cries as they waded into the fray.

The coronation room was a scene of utter chaos. Nobles and servants alike were struggling to exit the room while the guards were forcing their way into the center of the mob attempting to reach the Grand Dukes. Lord Belt and Lady Janneth were standing back to back and tearing into the creatures attacking them. Lord Belt was drenched in black doppelganger blood but splashes of crimson blood were also visible on his tunic. Throwing knives, darts and spells flew through the air as Imoen, Niklos and Dynaheir did their best to cut down on the number of doppelgangers attacking the leaders of Baldur's Gate.

Jeral slashed into a third creature as he continued to work his way through the melee towards Lady Janneth. A trio of doppelgangers was tearing at her and chips of stone flew from her robes. After taking a handful of blows her enchantments failed and she transformed back into her normal appearance. A clawed hand reached out and struck her across the face tearing long gashes across his cheek and jaw. With a cry of pain she dropped her staff and fell to the ground. Jeral lunged forward and slashed one of the creatures across the back. It wheeled to face Jeral while the other two closed to finish off the stricken Grand Duke. The creature attacked Jeral with a ferocity that immediately put him on the defensive as he ducked and twisted to avoid the razor sharp claws that lunged for him.

Jeral watched in horror as one of the creatures lifted Lady Janneth off the ground and pulled a claw back in preparation for administering a killing blow. As the creature's hand moved forward it was sliced cleanly off at the wrist from a razor sharp katana and Lady Janneth tumbled to the ground. Alatosi forced her way through the remnants of the crowd and stood guard over Lady Janneth. Her servant's livery was torn to shreds and her armor showed a handful of small wounds but she stood as fierce as any warrior goddess as she stood facing the pair of doppelgangers with black blood dripping off her blades. Robbed of their prize the two doppelgangers howled in frustration and attacked the weapons master in unison. Refusing to yield an inch of ground she absorbed a few slashes to her arms and shoulders but in return both creatures fell to the ground dead having sustained vicious blows from her blades.

Jeral was so captivated by the fight to save Lady Janneth that he completely forgot about his own peril. He was a step slow and one of the creature's claws tore into his right shoulder. Crying out from the intense pain Jeral dropped his sword as he lost all feeling in his hand. With his offhand he stabbed out but that feeble blow was easily turned aside. Jeral continued to backpedal away from the creature until the beast started to jerk and spasm uncontrollably. It dropped to its knees and slowly toppled forward. As it struck the ground Jeral noticed the quartet of darts and pair of throwing knives imbedded in its back. Looking up he made eye contact with Niklos and Imoen and nodded his thanks.

Jeral watched as the last creature was dispatched by Minsc. As the creature fell to the floor a stunned silence fell over the room. The dozen surviving guards stood around uncertain of what to do. Dynaheir clapped her hands to get their attention and ordered a pair of them to fetch the palace healers and an additional score of guardsmen. Yeslick knelt down and started using his divine gifts to heal the most grievous of the Grand Dukes wounds. Jeral gritted his teeth and used his own healing abilities to close the wound on his shoulder while Minsc and Alatosi stood guard over the Grand Dukes.

As Jeral surveyed the coronation room he was appalled by the carnage. Bodies were everywhere. In addition to the score of doppelgangers strewn across the floor there were near an equal number of servants and nobles. Some were cut down by guards fighting their way to protect their leaders while others showed the claw wounds from the shape shifters. The white marble floor was slick with a sickening tapestry of red and black blood that pooled into small lakes on the floor. The rich aroma of the blood assaulted Jeral's senses and he inhaled deeply. The sweet earth smelly of the human blood mixed with the bitter scent of the doppelganger blood to make an intoxicating aroma.

'_Blood is power, embrace it. Welcome it.' _Jeral opened his eyes with a start and looked around the room looking for the owner of the haunting voice. Jeral realized that no one was anywhere close to him. The voice he heard had come from somewhere within. Jeral forced the dark thoughts from his head and continued to survey the room.

The fat servant who had announced them to the audience in the hall lay face down in a corner. Something or someone had removed his head from his body. As Jeral completed his scan of the room he was startled to see a trio of people standing impassively in the far corner of the room. Sarevok leaned casually against the wall with his arms crossed as he languidly surveyed the scene in front of him. Captain Angelo and an elderly wizard in blood red robes stood next to him. The trio had clearly remained above the fray and all looked untouched by the madness around them.

Jeral picked up his second enchanted blade off the floor and headed towards Sarevok. As Jeral approached Sarevok did not move from his languid position, he merely looked at Jeral with disdain. Captain Angelo drew his sword at Jeral's approach and the wizard was clearly ready with an incantation should it prove necessary. Jeral stopped a few paces from Sarevok and glared up at the large man. Sarevok chuckled and the poor attempt at intimidation.

"My my my. If it isn't Gorion's whelp and his criminal friends." Sarevok regally snapped his fingers to draw the attention of the closest guardsmen. "You two. This lot are the criminals wanted for the depredations up and down the Sword Coast and the attack in the square. Arrest them. If they resist then kill them."

Jeral took a deep breath, sheathed his blades, and motioned for his companions to do the same. A handful of guards uncertainly looked to one another. Captain Angelo shouted at them to listen to the newest Grand Duke and they reluctantly lowered their halberds and pointed them at Jeral and his companions.

"Hold there men. Lower your weapons." Duke Belt's deep voice echoed throughout the room. Jeral watched in awe as the Grand Duke hauled himself to his feet and leaned heavily on Yeslick as he clasped the sword of Baldurain in his right hand. "Whatever their alleged crimes their actions today have earned them my gratitude."

"And mine as well." Lady Janneth leaned heavily on Alatosi as she chugged a healing draught. Despite her wounds her voice was clear and strong. You have saved our lives and done the city a great service."

"Surely you jest; I am the savior of Baldur's Gate, not this rabble."

"And yet you elected to remain out of this fray." Lady Janneth's voice was tight with disappointment.

"And our recently promoted Captain of the Flaming Fist also elected to remain out of the fray as well. Curious." Lord Belt spoke through clenched teeth as his knuckles went white around the pommel of his sword. Reinforcements finally arrived as guardsmen streamed into the room. Wordlessly the newly arrived soldiers formed up into tight ranks surrounding the pair of Grand Dukes. A pair of clerics followed the soldiers into the room and quickly started chanting invocations to their Gods to complete the healing Yeslick had started. A soft light covered the Dukes as their remaining wounds closed under the ministrations of the clerics. Once the Dukes were healed the clerics moved onto to tend to the wounded lying about the coronation room.

Lord Belt slowly made his way to stand next to Jeral. Wearily he sheathed his sword and looked closely at Sarevok and then at Jeral. "Despite all the obvious differences there is something similar about the two of you, but I am not sure what it is. Regardless, I can make decisions about things that I have seen today with my own eyes. Jeral, I thank you and your companions for your assistance today. You and your companions are no longer considered fugitives wanted by the Flaming Fist."

Pivoting he faced Captain Angelo and extended his arm to poke at the man's chest.

"Captain Angelo. Due to cowardice in the face of a threat to the Grand Dukes your services in the Flaming Fist are no longer required. You are no longer welcome in the city. You have 12 hours to collect your things and be gone. Furthermore, if I find out that you had anything to do with the deaths of either Duke Eltan or Captain Scar I will have your head on a spike." Angelo started to depart the room when he was stopped by Sarevok placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. Angelo nodded up at Sarevok and remained in place as he quietly sheathed his sword.

"How very interesting. Here we thought Captain Angelo was our man but all this time he served another."

"You wound me Lady Janneth, Captain Angelo serves this city, as do I. That is why you made me the newest Grand Duke in the city."

"You speak in error Sarevok. We had not completed the ceremony when we were attacked. This badge will never be yours." Lady Janneth dropped the badge on the ground and gently touched it with the end of her staff. The staff flashed once and the badge melted into a molten pool of gold on the floor. Sarevok's eyes flashed in anger as he watched the badge melt into the floor but he quickly resumed his impassive haughty visage. Smiling he crossed his arms across his massive chest and leaned against the wall.

"Sarevok, what is your game here? This does not make any sense. Were you allied with these shapeshifters?"

"I was not. I merely was not prepared to intervene in a timely manner. I was confident that you and Lord Belt had sufficient abilities to deal with any threat."

"Awwwww, is widdle Sarevok scared of the mean ole shapeshifters?" Imoen's jibe delivered in her most annoying possible tone caused Sarevok's eyes to flash in anger and he pushed himself off the wall and took a step towards her.

Imoen assumed a defensive crouch and blades appeared on both of her hands. "I am not scared of you tall dark and ugly. Take another step and I will put a throwing knife where it will do the most good." Imoen twisted a throwing knife in her hand to ensure Sarevok could see it.

Sarevok took a deep breath and smiled broadly at the girl. "You are a mewing little nothing. A pink haired sack of meat. When the time comes I will ensure that you die slowly."

Lord Belt stepped in front of Sarevok and looked up at the large warrior. "Sarevok, you will remove yourself from the palace before you say something that you may have cause to regret. Guards, escort Sarevok and his companions out."

"My fine Dukes, I would suggest you ask your guest to remain for a few more moments. I may be able to shed some light on the issue and I believe that I have answers to your questions here."

Every eye in the coronation room turned to see Endar Sai come limping in. The master thief looked very much the worse for wear. His armor was torn in a number of places and the left side of his face was covered in burns. His left leg was not functioning properly and he limped badly as he shuffled into the room. All of his throwing knives were gone and a sole blade remained at his hip.

Lady Janneth eyed the thief warily and commanded, "Who are you to enter the palace after I ordered it sealed?"

Before Endar could form a reply Lord Belt stepped forward and shook hands with the thief.

"It is good to see you old friend. You look terrible."

"Belt, you know this ruffian?"

Smiling Belt turned and faced Lady Janneth. "My apologies my dear Lady Janneth. Endar Sai is one of the leaders of the Thieves' Guild here in Baldur's Gate and an old adventuring companion of mine."

Endar bowed formally towards Lady Janneth and smiled broadly. It is a pleasure to meet you my dear. I apologize for my bedraggled appearance but I have been quite busy this evening." He flipped a red leather bound book towards Lady Janneth. Take a gander at that my Lady while I tell these fine folks how I spent my evening.

Smiling he pivoted on a heel and faced Sarevok. "I was planning to take back my guild this evening but for some reason I was struck by a selfless streak and decided to visit the Iron Throne. Your business has fallen on hard times; everyone in the building says you have ruined them and squandered the wealth of the merchant house. Even more interesting than that I ran into your consort the chubby woman with blond hair. She is not a very nice woman, not in the least. She decided that I needed to die. Obviously she failed. I live while she died. She had some very interesting things in her possession, very interesting."

Sarevok shifted uncomfortably and he stared daggers at Endar as he clenched and unclenched his hands in rage.

Lady Janneth was leafing through the book while she listened to Endar's story. "Pray continue master Endar."

"Such manners from a Grand Duke; you make me blush my dear Lady. As I was saying after I killed Cythandria I ran into another of Sarevok's admirers outside of the building. You are a good looking fellow so I should not be surprised you have woman stashed everywhere. She told me that Sarevok has been a very bad boy and that he was trying to stir up a war between Baldur's Gate and Amn. She also said some very odd things about Bhaal and Sarevok's plan here to revive the long dead God of murder. She was quite fond of you. Lovely little thing named Tamoko. She was a much more appealing woman than the other one."

"You said was." Sarevok's voice was like ice as it echoed through the room.

"Yes, the Kozakuran woman was so broken up about your leaving her that she could not find a reason to live. So she attempted to kill me and like your blond wench she failed."

"Tamoko is dead?"

"I sincerely hope so. Otherwise I am losing my touch. Although she did put up quite the fight. Some of these scars may not heal properly."

"Tamoko is dead?"

Sarevok's voice was barely more than a whisper and Jeral could see the large man fighting back tears as he started shaking. Everyone started slowly backing away from the head of the Iron Throne as a wave of energy seemed to pulse outward from his body. The hairs on the back of Jeral's neck stood up and Jeral could feel Sarevok losing control.

"TAMOKO IS DEAD!"

Sarevok roared and drew his massive two handed blade faster than Jeral thought possible. A pair of guards stepped forward and one massive swing of Sarevok's blade sliced the men in half. Their legs fell backwards while their torsos fell forward. Angelo drew his bastard sword and leapt forward to engage a number of the guardsmen. The elite guardsmen were no match for the pair of fighters and were quickly falling under the assault. Jeral leapt forward, drew his short swords and slashed viciously at Sarevok. Sarevok laughed as he parried Jeral's first blow. Twisting sideways the large man elbowed Jeral in the face, shattering his nose as the blow connected. Jeral staggered backwards holding his blades out in front of him for protection. Sarevok took a massive overhead swing and Jeral barely managed to link his blades above his head to parry the blow. The force of the blow drove him to one knee. Sarevok followed up with a boot to the chest that cracked ribs and landed Jeral on his backside.

Jeral scrambled backwards as he struggled to breath and looked to stay out of reach of Sarevok's blade. Sarevok was quickly distracted from attacking Jeral as Minsc and Alatosi moved forward to engage the large warrior. The two warriors attacked Sarevok savagely but he easily managed to parry each of their attacks, his one blade moving quickly enough to match their three. Despite the odds Sarevok managed to inflict numerous small wounds on the large ranger and the weapons master.

"Enough!" Lady Janneth slammed her staff into the floor and a wave of blue light engulfed the room knocking all save Sarevok off their feet. All eyes were on the mage as she leveled a jeweled hand at Sarevok. "You are no true son of Reiltar. You are one of the Bhaal children from the prophecies of Alundo. This diary – your diary – gives truth and rips away your tapestry of deceit. It is time for you to die." Lady Janneth murmured a quick incantation and a beam of black light shot from her finger. Before it could strike Sarevok he disappeared from the coronation room along with Angelo and the elderly wizard.

Lady Janneth let out a stream of curses that made even Imoen blush as she stormed over to stand next to Jeral. Staring down at Jeral she commanded, "I will be able to divine his location by sunrise. When I do you and your friends will hunt him down and kill him. You will be richly rewarded for this." Jeral pulled himself to his feet and nodded at the Grand Duke. "We shall do as you ask Lady Janneth.

Lord Belt walked over and grasped Jeral by the forearm. "Whatever we can do to prepare you for your quest on the morrow do not hesitate to ask."

"You are too kind my Lord. We will require food, chambers for the night, access to healers and some limited supplies."

"Very well, I will have my men see to it immediately."

"Is there anything else you and your companions require?"

"There is one more thing Lord Belt. We require the return of our companion Ajantis from the Flaming fist jail."


	33. O Brother Where Art Thou?

Chapter 33 – O brother where art thou? – Day 107

_Never thought I would get here. For those of you who have stuck around for the ride. Thank you so much!_

The table was covered with vases of fresh flowers, crystal pitchers of excellent watered wine, fruits, cheeses and loaves of fresh bread. Servants shuffled around the room ensuring that everyone sitting at the table had anything they wished. Steaming plates of eggs and blood sausages joined with the overabundance of food already on the table. A pair of musicians – one a harpist and one a cellist – played softly in the corner. The entire room exuded affluence, cheerfulness, and light. Despite the welcoming nature of the environment everyone at the table looked grim. Lady Janneth slowly stood and leaned heavily on the table as she eyed everyone in turn. Her handsome face was lined with fatigue that provided ample evidence that she had not slept at all the night before. She cleared her throat softly and everyone at the table quickly quieted down and eyed the Grand Duke expectantly.

Good morrow to you all. I am pleased to see that you have managed to get some rest and freshen up. I hope you are indeed rested for I believe I have an outlet for all of your energy. It took me most of the night to track down the Bhaal child's location but I managed to do so. He has retreated to an abandoned temple dedicated to that same God in an ancient cavern that lies deep under the city."

"Then we will go there and strike him down in the heart of his foul lair!"

Lady Janneth managed a tight smile at the paladin's outburst but the cheer did not extend to her eyes.

"Squire Ajantis is it not? I am glad to see you have not suffered unduly for your ordeal in the Fist gaol. I am sure you will have adequate opportunity to dispense justice. Pray allow me to continue uninterrupted however for our time is short."

Ajantis had the good grace to blush and nodded his obedience to her command.

Lady Janneth took a sip of watered wine, brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and continued. "I had thought the caverns lay forgotten and undisturbed by the living but apparently that assessment was in error. Sarevok and a small number of followers are apparently there. They have made no effort to move since they arrived last night. Something tells me that they are waiting for you Jeral. I am unsure why our almost Grand Duke has some affinity towards you but I will find out."

Jeral nodded and avoided making eye contact with the powerful mage as he focused on the food on the table in front of him. He had no desire to announce that he and Sarevok shared an unholy father to the audience around him.

"I can teleport the eight of you into the caverns. I can get you a few hundred yards away from the temple so you should be able to make your way from there without any problems."

"What can we expect to find in the caverns besides Sarevok and his companions?"

"And where are Endar and Lord Belt?"

"Both of your questions show wisdom. I shall answer them in turn. I suspect the caverns are home to the undead but beyond that I cannot say Lady Dynaheir. As for your question Maid Imoen, Endar and Lord Belt are leading a detachment of elite guardsmen, our senior clerics, and some old adventuring companions of theirs into the caverns. Apparently there is access to the caverns through a little known tunnel that originates in the thieves' guild. Endar is one of the few that knows the way through the traps. And before you ask young one know that their path will take hours and I cannot take the chance that Sarevok escapes our judgment. You must proceed without delay."

The eight drained their glasses and stood up as one. Nodding to one another they formed up behind the table making final adjustments to their weapons and armor. Ajantis was back in his ankheg plate with his enchanted shield, boots of speed and heavily enchanted long sword. Minsc looked like a metal tower as he stood stock still in his heavy suit of full plate, the massive Spiders Bane held in front of him. Alatosi stood at his side in her chain tunic as she oiled her katana. Dynaheir stood silently while Niklos and Imoen held hands as they waited for Lady Janneth to begin. Finally it was time and Lady Janneth began her complex incantations, her face locked in a frown of concentration. As she completed the spell she tapped the end of her staff gently on the table, and the room went black.

Jeral struggled to remain on his feet as the spell ended. He could not see anything for the cavern was pitch black, but he could tell that it was a new location from the smell. The air was foul and stale and reeked of death and decay. Dynaheir and Imoen muttered a few words and a half dozen mage lights winked into existence. Four blue lights clearly were from Dynaheir while two gaudy pink globes of light left no doubt as to their creator. Dynaheir positioned her lights in a perimeter around the group allowing them to see about fifty paces in each direction.

"Lady Dynaheir your mage lights will draw the undead to us like flies, you must put them out immediately."

"Correct Squire Ajantis but we need to see. Only good Yeslick can see in the dark."

"Tis true lass but if the undead be a concern they are near invisible to even the best dwarven eyes for they give off no heat. I too welcome the light."

A low moan echoed off in the distance. Dynaheir and Imoen locked eyes and Imoen's pink mage lights shot off towards the noise. The lights soon illuminated a large mass of zombies shambling towards the group, drawn to the lights and the scent of flesh. Jeral's quick count stopped at over two score of the slow moving undead creatures.

"Let's see if you long limbs can keep up with me." Yeslick grasped his war hammer and charged into the horde of creatures closely trailed by Minsc, Ajantis and Alatosi. Yeslick slammed into the lead zombie and pummeled him to the ground smashing the creature's skull with his war hammer. The warriors followed in trail cutting a swath through the slow moving creatures. Jeral watched in awe as the quartet defeated four times their number without sustaining any wounds of significance.

Once the mass of zombies were defeated the group reformed.

"So where are we supposed to go? This place must be crawling with zombies and worse. We need to find the way directly to the temple and now." Imoen struggled to keep the fear out of her voice as she spoke.

Jeral raised an arm and pointed off into the distance. "Sarevok and the temple are that way."

"How could you possibly know that? We have seen nothing down here but this infernal darkness and the foul undead."

"Ajantis, trust me on this one. I feel it in my bones, we go that way." Jeral felt his inner being pulling him towards Sarevok. Something deep inside him was forcing the two of them together.

The group slowly worked their way through the caverns moving as quietly as possible. Jeral thought their efforts at stealth were wasted since they moved as a large group bathed by a half dozen mage lights. After stumbling along in the glare of the mage lights for some time a mass of black stone rose out of the very shadows; they had reached their destination.

All eight of them stopped as one and wordlessly started at the frightening scene that appeared before them. The Temple of Bhaal was a massive foreboding structure that chilled all who gazed upon it. Every aspect of its construction appeared to foment terror in observers. Every inch of the exterior temple walls was engraved with carvings that showed death. Men, dwarves, elves, virtually every humanoid race was depicted dying in the most horrific ways possible. Jeral's eyes were drawn to a particularly horrific image of a young child as she was burned alive. This was the true essence of Bhaal, a God who offered nothing more than suffering and death. Not for the first time Jeral struggled to understand how any could follow a Lord of Murder. Even worse, Jeral wondered what such tainted blood could make him do. Could he have any hope to rise above the tainted blood that flowed in his veins?

"Uh, Jeral, please tell me we do not have to go in there."

"Sarevok is in there. I have to go in sis. Stay here if you wish."

"Not a chance. Where you go I go, we are in this together."

"Fear not Maid Imoen, for I shall be honored to protect you."

"Sod off Ajantis. I can take care of myself. And if not Niklos can protect me."

Jeral shook his head as he watched Imoen nurse her grudge against Ajantis. Despite the colorful hair and the bright clothes Imoen definitely had developed an edge to her personality.

"Well while you lot are bickering what say I have a wee peek inside?" Without waiting for an answer Niklos disappeared from sight. The temple door slowly creaked open as his unseen form slipped inside. The group backed away from the door and kept a wary watch in all directions as they waited for the young thief to return. After waiting for an indeterminate period of time Niklos reappeared right in front of Jeral.

"Sarevok is inside all right. He is there with the former Captain Angelo, that old wizard from the coronation and a massive half ogre."

"That has to be Tazok, the leader of the bandit camp."

"I care not a whit for his name Helmite. He is a good sight taller than even Minsc and is clad in a massive suit of plate mail. He and Sarevok are two of the most dangerous looking fighters I have ever seen. They are just sitting inside waiting for us. That entire place scares the life out of me."

"Those of us who live in the light and on the side of righteousness have nothing to fear from such a place. We are twice their number and we have justice on our side. We will prevail, Helm shall guide us."

"I am sure Helm will be quite useful Ajantis but it would help if we could find a way to at least get them out of the temple. As a Bhaal child Sarevok draws strength from his proximity to his father. Fighting him inside that temple would make him almost invulnerable."

"How could you possibly know that Jeral? I have not heard of that mentioned in any of Alundo's prophecies."

"Trust me Dynaheir, I just do. My life in Candlekeep did expose me to many things and the monks studied the prophecies extensively." Jeral quietly looked at the massive structure for a few moments until he snapped his fingers and smiled at the group.

"I think I have a way to make them come out here and face us on ground of our choosing. Back up a few paces and make yourself ready for a fight." Jeral laid out his remaining 12 arrows of detonation on the ground and calmly picked one up and aimed it at the side of the massive temple.

"Jeral surely you do not intend to defile Bhaal's temple. That may well incur the wrath of the God himself."

Jeral looked back at Ajantis and released the arrow. Even without looking his arrow could not possibly miss the massive temple. As it hurtled towards its target Jeral smiled at the paladin.

"Sod him, he can be as angry at me as he may wish."

The arrow struck the side of the temple and exploded with an ear shattering roar. Jeral dropped to a knee and quickly fired a second, third and fourth arrow at the exact same place in the wall. The fourth arrow blew a small hole in the thick wall and Jeral quickly launched another quartet of arrows into the gap. They exploded inside the temple and small sections of the roof started to collapse into the temple. He knew that Sarevok would soon move out of the temple and then one of them would die.

Jeral felt a wave of spells wash over him as Dynaheir completed her haste spell and Yeslick blessed the party. The fighters spread out in a loose row with Imoen, Dynaheir and Niklos behind them. Jeral stood off to the side of the others and launched a ninth arrow of detonation up to the roof of the temple. It struck near the top of the massive structure and huge sections of the roof fell inwards on the temple.

Jeral turned to watch Alatosi and Minsc quaff yellow potions while Ajantis bowed in prayer. All were ready as they would be for the fight to come.

The massive temple doors exploded outwards in a gout of flame as they were flung a hundred paces across the cavern. Tazok lumbered out of the explosion; the massive half ogre was clad in a suit of full plate mail and held a wicked looking spiked club in his hands. As he cleared the temple he spotted the party. Wordlessly he turned and charged the group moving with magically enhanced speed. Yeslick and Minsc charged towards Tazok and the trio soon met with the clash of steel.

Jeral watched as Captain Angelo and the elderly wizard strolled out of the crumbling temple. Angelo silently drew his bastard sword and strode towards the group. Clad in a suit of well made split mail he still cut a striking figure despite his banishment from the ranks of the Flaming Fist. Ajantis uttered a quick prayer to Helm, saluted the warrior and strode to meet him in one on one combat. Moving with enhanced speed due to his boots and Dynaheir's spell Ajantis closed with the mercenary in an instant.

The enemy mage muttered a few words and quickly was enveloped in a sphere of energy and then his skin and robes turned the color of stone. Jeral realized that this was a powerful wizard and wondered if Dynaheir was up to the challenge. Imoen and Niklos moved to stand next to Dynaheir ready to support her with blade and dart as needed.

Jeral stood to the rear surveying the scene and waiting for Sarevok to enter into view. Jeral nervously fidgeted with his bow and held one of his few remaining exploding arrows in his hand. Alatosi stood next to Jeral tapping her blades together and she watched the battle unfold.

"Let me guess. Endar told you to keep an eye on me."

"Actually he said I was to do whatever it took to keep you alive. I am willing to lay down my life for you."

"Well that is very flattering Alatosi, let us both hope that is not necessary."

Jeral shook his head and returned his view to the melee unfolding in front of him. Tazok was roaring and his massive club was a blur as he swung it back and forth. Yeslick and Minsc both were bellowing inhuman sounding war cries of their own as they worked smoothly together, one drawing Tazok's attention while the other pressed their attacks home. Jeral watched as Yeslick rolled forward under a strike from Tazok and landed a glancing blow on Tazok's knee. The blow did not slow the massive half ogre at all but Jeral realized that the duo was slowly gaining the upper hand over Tazok.

Jeral turned his head to the left and saw that Ajantis was struggling against Captain Angelo. The experienced mercenary fighter moved in a blur and Ajantis struggled to parry each blow with blade and shield. Angelo slashed at Ajantis and the paladin barely managed to lean backwards and evade the blow. Without pausing Angelo reversed the swing and his back slash cut deeply into the paladin's right arm. The enchanted bastard sword dug into the ankheg plate mail right below his shoulder. Ajantis cried out in pain and dropped his blade as a stream of blood issued from the wound.

Ajantis slid backwards and barely managed to bring his shield across his body to intercept the next blow. Jeral dropped the exploding arrow to the ground and quickly drew an arrow of ice. His snap shot at Angelo's head was true but the fighter jerked back his head at the last second as the arrow merely grazed his face leaving a trail of frost on his right cheekbone.

Angelo locked eyes with Jeral and sneered.

"The master says you belong to him fool! Else I would slice you in half. Instead I will kill this foolish young Helmite." Angelo struck out time and again at Ajantis and drove the paladin to a knee as he hammered on the squire's shield. The heavy blows started bending the shield despite the enchantments built into it.

"Alatosi, Ajantis needs your help."

"Endar said I must protect you. He said nothing about the Helmite. Besides the man is a prat of the highest order."

Jeral felt a rush of anger welling up inside. Who was this woman to disobey him? Jeral locked eyes with the weapons master and leaned forward until their foreheads touched.

"I…said…..aid…..the Helmite…..NOW!"

Jeral eyes flashed with a golden intensity as he bellowed the final word at the woman. Something in his voice caused her to take a step back and look at him very closely. Cocking her head to the side Alatosi appraised him carefully.

"You….there is something about you that is not right, something not natural. However, I will do what you say for now. Later we will continue this conversation. If we both survive." Without looking back Alatosi raced forward to stand over the fallen Helmite. Her dual blades flashed in the mage lights and matched Angelo strike for strike. Jeral instinctively knew that Alatosi was more than a match for Captain Angelo.

A ball of fire exploded off to Jeral's right and he turned to see Imoen and Niklos roll away to cover. Dynaheir was bathed in a blue light that seemed to protect her from the flames and heat. Dynaheir dropped to a knee and launched a brace of magic missiles at her opponent. They reached the other mage and dissolved into the yellow globe of energy that surrounded him. Jeral was distracted from watching the mage battle as the remainder of the temple finally collapsed in a massive cloud of dust and debris. Sarevok strode out of the billowing cloud of dust. Jeral inhaled deeply as the vision before him took him back to the clearing where it all began. Sarevok was clad in the same intricate set of black full plate mail from so many months ago. The holy symbol of Bhaal glowed brightly on Sarevok's chest and bathed the entire cavern in an unholy golden light.

Sarevok slowly surveyed the scene in front of him. He watched unconcerned as his allies fought desperately against superior numbers of enemies. He locked eyes with Jeral and his golden eyes flashed brightly. Jeral could not see Sarevok's face due to the massive visored helm but he knew the man was smirking at him. Jeral snapped off a pair of arrows of ice at the heavily armored man. Sarevok's blade flashed and the arrows dropped to the ground, each cleanly sliced in two.

"Arrows Jeral? Come face me like a real man. Let us settle this brother to brother."

Jeral nocked another arrow of ice and let it fly, then a second, and a third. He then quickly picked up one of his very last arrows of detonation and launched it squarely at Sarevok's chest. Sarevok held his blade in the guard position and smashed one arrow out of the air and then a second. Seeing the third arrow almost upon him Sarevok quickly dropped to his knees and the shaft skimmed harmlessly over his head.

Jeral could not believe how fast the man could move. Heavily armed and armored he still moved as quickly as any man Jeral had ever seen. Sarevok's effort to avoid the third arrow was not without cost however. As he dropped to his knees Jeral's fourth arrow struck a glancing blow on the right edge of Sarevok's great helm. The resulting blast threw everyone off their feet and Sarevok was hurled back into the dust and debris cloud from the collapsed temple. Jeral gripped his long bow tightly in his left hand as he raced forward into the debris cloud dodging around the others as they struggled to their feet and resumed their personal battles.

Choking on the dust Jeral looked around wildly for the downed warrior. Jeral forced himself to slow down and had to move cautiously to avoid tripping over the rubble strewn everywhere – all that remained of the ancient temple. Regardless of the outcome of the battle Jeral took a grim satisfaction in knowing he had destroyed the temple. Jeral heard a shuffling close by and froze in place. He held his bow at the ready with a fire arrow held in place ready to launch. The dust continued to settle and Jeral could only see a few yards in all directions as he continued to search for Sarevok. A dark shadow appeared to Jeral's right and quickly grew larger as it approached. Sarevok strode out of the dust. His great helm was horribly disfigured and showed clear signs of blast damage. The entire right side of his helm was dented in, all of the horns were ripped from the right side of the helmet and blood flowed from under the helm where it dug into Sarevok's face.

"Attacked with arrows of explosion purchased for my own personal guards. How very unpleasant."

Sarevok swung a massive overhead blow at Jeral. The bard stumbled on some loose stones and could not twist out of the way. Jeral snapped off a quick shot but his arrow glanced of Sarevok's chest plate and shattered without doing any damage. Jeral could only watch helplessly as the blade descended. At the last instant Jeral dropped to a knee and held his enchanted long bow over his head with both hands. Sarevok's blade cut deeply into the bow and the force of the blow drove Jeral to the ground. The heavy enchantments in the long bow managed to slow the strike enough to allow Jeral to dive out of the way. The bard scrabbled backwards to get away from Sarevok's blade as he tossed the remains of his long bow to the side.

Sarevok slammed his blade into the ground and the point bit deeply into the stone. Grasping his disfigured helmet with both hands he pulled outwards on the bent metal and slowly pulled it off his head. As Sarevok's face came into view Jeral recoiled in horror. His arrow had collapsed the right side of his face. The skull was collapsed inwards and a handful of teeth were missing. Sarevok's right ear was ripped off and hung from the helmet like an evil talisman. Sarevok's handsome visage was marred almost beyond recognition.

Sarevok tossed his mangled helmet to the side and gripped his face in his hands. Jeral watched transfixed as Sarevok's hands glowed red for an instant. As he pulled his hands away from his face Jeral stared open mouthed as Sarevok's face was once again the haughty, handsome visage he knew all too well. Jeral looked a second time at Sarevok and noted that his right ear was still missing. The wound was closed but the ear was still gone, a lingering flaw in an otherwise perfect face.

"You see brother; you are not the only one with gifts from our father. As the favored offspring I have gifts and powers that others only dream about. Despite your cowardly attack I am once again the vision of male perfection."

Jeral chuckled to himself and slowly made his way to his feet. As he dusted himself off he looked at Sarevok and shook his head. He pulled his quiver off his back and tossed it to the side and then slowly drew his pair of enchanted short swords.

"Before you start going on about perfection I would suggest you scratch your right ear."

Sarevok's hand flew to the side of his face and his hand clenched and unclenched as he felt around the side of his head looking for his ear.

Jeral lazily pointed to Sarevok's helm on the ground.

"I think it is over there. Maybe a good seamstress can sew it back on for you."

Sarevok spied the tattered remnants of his ear off to the side and let out a ground shaking howl of rage. Sarevok ripped his blade out of the ground and charged towards Jeral. The holy symbol at the center of Sarevok's chest glowed with a frightening intensity. Jeral could feel the eyes of death upon him, watching and waiting for him to enter the underworld.

Jeral strode towards Sarevok twirling his blades as he did so. Jeral's blood pounded in his head as he moved to close with the large warrior. Jeral's lip lifted into a sneer and he welcomed the chance to avenge his father. Sarevok charged into Jeral and swung his blade in a massive diagonal arc. Jeral nimbly hopped over the blade and struck out at Sarevok's right shoulder. His blades sparked off the shoulder plate of Sarevok's armor and left no mark upon his darkly enchanted plate mail. Sarevok swung a lightning quick backhand blow and Jeral threw himself backwards to avoid the strike. Jeral smiled with the realization that his speed was more than a match for Sarevok. He had never moved as quickly as he did so now. Visions of blood, Sarevok's blood, filled his mind and he imagined watching the killer of Gorion die.

Fueled by rage and a thirst for revenge Jeral lashed out with his blades and Sarevok swatted his strikes away. Jeral's speed ensured that he could keep Sarevok on the defensive but he could not penetrate Sarevok's guard to inflict any damage. Sarevok had regained his composure and mocked Jeral as he parried his attacks.

"First you attack with arrows and now you dare to face me with those puny blades. Those are not the weapons of a warrior. Those are the weapons of a child. A child who is ill prepared for the dangers of the world. A child who is too weak to protect those closest to them. A child who could only watch as Gorion died. Ever pathetic. Ever a fool."

The vision of Gorion's death passed through Jeral's mind unbidden and unwelcome. A wave of emotion overcame Jeral as he realized how much he loved and missed his foster father. Jeral forced back a sob as he realized he would never see Gorion again or hear his voice.

Sarevok's next blow brought Jeral out of his reverie as he only just managed to direct it away with his blades. The force of the blow jarred the bard's shoulders painfully. Sarevok was even stronger than Minsc and seemed to be gaining strength as they fought. Jeral ducked under the next blow and slashed out at Sarevok's left leg with both blades. The blades stuck home but could not penetrate Sarevok's armor. Sarevok slammed his shoulder into Jeral and knocked the bard off his feet. Sarevok glared down at the bard and his eyes flashed with thoughts of victory. "You will die today puny one, alone and forgotten."

"He is not the one about to die today; nice ear by the way."

Jeral turned to watch as Imoen hurled a pair of blades at Sarevok. Her clothes were torn away in places but she looked no worse for her contest with the enemy mage. The first blade found a joint in his armor and dug in under his left armpit while the second glanced off the man's plate mail.

"Get up Jeral. We are not done until this one is dead."

Imoen pulled a second pair of blades out from her sleeves and readied them to throw.

"You and Alatosi can keep him busy while I look for an opening."

Alatosi strode past the downed bard and placed herself directly in front of Sarevok. Her long chain mail tunic was slashed in a number of places and she was bleeding from shallow wounds on her left leg and both arms. Despite the wounds she moved as one uninjured. She held up both blades in front of her face in a salute as she prepared to face the large warrior.

Jeral chanced a quick view back over his shoulder to take a look at the status of everyone else. Ajantis was flat on his back and lay there unmoving. Yeslick knelt over the paladin and Jeral watched as Yeslick called upon his divine gifts to heal the victim. Niklos and Minsc sat back to back both bleeding from numerous wounds. They were clearly alive but they were incapable of movement let alone combat. Dynaheir lay across her protector's lap and was not moving. Jeral could not determine if she was dead, injured or just exhausted from her duel with the enemy mage. Tazok, Angelo and the mage all lay on the ground and Jeral smiled when he realized that his friends had managed to defeat their enemies. Sarevok stood alone.

Jeral slowly stood up and moved to stand next to Alatosi. The pair faced off against Sarevok. Jeral smiled grimly as he stared at the large warrior.

"Your friends are dead, your plans are foiled, and your temple is destroyed. You stand alone and outnumbered."

"Fool. Those men who lay there were not my friends. They were tools I used to achieve my own ends; their deaths mean nothing to me. Friends are for the week. I stand alone but what stands against me? A whelp with a child's blades, a pink haired imbecile and this ungainly looking wench. Hardly a challenge for one with my gifts. As for my plans, so long as I live I am our father's chosen son, the tool for his resurrection and my ascension into the ranks of the divine."

"Well you will be seeing him very soon."

Jeral stabbed out with his right hand blade as Alatosi lashed out with her katana. Sarevok accepted the katana blow on his shoulder plate as he parried Jeral's stab with his own blade. Sarevok leapt forward and punched Jeral in the mouth with the pommel of his sword and Jeral staggered back and struggled to clear his vision. Sensing Jeral was temporarily out of the fight Sarevok pivoted sharply and savagely attacked Alatosi.

His blade swung time and time again and the weapons master met each and every strike with a parry of her own. She even managed to launch a few weak counterattacks to keep Sarevok off balance. Jeral blinked his eyes a few times and could see clearly once again. Blood streamed down his face and he knew he had a broken nose and possibly a broken jaw. He adjusted the grip on his blades and trotted forward to again confront Gorion's killer. Sarevok was wholly focused on Alatosi and barely registered at Jeral's return to the fight.

Jeral noted with a start that Sarevok was smiling as he battled Alatosi.

Jeral hurled himself at Sarevok and his blades glanced harmlessly of the big man's armor.

"Ahhhh look who is back. How is your jaw pretty one?"

"Better than your ear!"

The retort about his disfigured face startled Sarevok and he lost focus for an instant. That was enough for Alatosi to dart under his guard and stab with her left handed blade at a joint in his armor. Her short sword parted the chain mail protecting his left hip and bit deeply. He howled in pain and lowered his blade quickly to defend against her strike. The massive blade bit deeply into her left shoulder and her arm dropped to her side useless as her short sword clattered to the ground. She gasped in pain and slid backwards as she struggled to remain focused on her opponent despite the massive injury. She held her katana out in front of her but the blade trembled from the exertion.

Jeral stepped forward to place himself between Alatosi and Sarevok. The large warrior contemptuously swatted him away with the flat of his blade. The blow shattered a few ribs and drove the metal rings of his mail deep into his side and he was again flung to the ground.

"Insect. You die last. You will watch all of your friends die and learn that compassion is a fatal weakness."

Jeral struggled to his feet as he watched Sarevok close with the weapons master. Her face was pale and gaunt from the pain and massive blood loss. Jeral could smell the blood from where he was and wondered how she could possibly still be on her feet. Sarevok struck once and then again. Each time Alatosi parried his strike but the exertion cost her dearly. Finally the inevitable happened. Alatosi swung wildly with her blade aiming for Sarevok's head. Sarevok reached out with a gauntleted left hand and grabbed her wrist in a vice like grasp. In her weakened state she was helpless to break free of his grasp. He squeezed and Jeral could hear the bones shattering in her wrist. Alatosi screamed in pain as the katana fell from her grasp. Sarevok pulled her in close and from Jeral's perspective it looked as if two lovers were caught in an embrace. With a last surge of energy Alatosi lashed out and head butted Sarevok in the nose. His nose shattered and he bellowed in rage. He released her wrist and stepped back to quickly compose himself.

Sarevok grasped his war blade in a two handed grip and stabbed outwards. His strike easily sliced through her chain tunic and Jeral watched in horror as the blade exited in the center of her lower back trailing a stream of muscle, blood and bone. Alatosi gasped in pain and her head rolled back to the sky. Sarevok quickly withdrew his blade and the weapons master dropped to the ground in a heap. Sarevok eyed her dispassionately and then turned to face Jeral.

"That one, she did show great courage and some skill with a blade. I have not faced the likes of her in some time. But no matter. Once again someone faces me and falls before me. Get up Jeral and let us finish this. But know that I will butcher all of your companions once you fall."

Jeral struggled to his feet and stood on unsteady legs. Fatigue, pain and despair all served to sap him of his energy. All of the magical enhancements he carried into battle were long gone and whatever gifts he conjured from within had also departed. Jeral stood very much alone and feared that Gorion's killer might yet prevail. Jeral stared at the massive armored warrior facing him and wracked his brain for a strategy that showed any chance of success.

A flash of pink behind Sarevok quickly drove a jolt of energy through Jeral as it provided him what he so desperately needed – hope. Jeral reversed his grip and grasped both blades in an overhand grip so the blades pointed downwards.

Wordlessly he charged Sarevok and when he neared the warrior he leapt in the air and aimed his blades to stab downwards on each side of his neck. Sarevok stabbed upwards with his blade and Jeral desperately twisted sideways to avoid impaling himself on the blade. Despite his gyrations the blade sliced deeply into his left side. Jeral continue twisting and his right hand blade buried itself deeply into Sarevok's shoulder, missing his neck by inches. Jeral fell to the ground and placed his hands over the massive wound on his left side. He struggled to call forth his healing powers but nothing happened as his blood continued to pour through his fingers.

Sarevok loomed over Jeral and he plucked the sword out of his left shoulder and tossed it to the ground. He was bleeding profusely and no longer looked as confident and cocky as he had moments earlier.

"That was…unexpected Jeral. I did not think you could manage to get inside my guard. However know that you have failed. You could not protect Gorion, you cannot protect your friends and you will not stand next to our father. If you had been more reasonable I would have allowed you to serve me as one of my generals. But that cannot happen now. Such a disappointment. No matter it is time for you to…..uggggggggggrrrrrrrkkkkkk."

Sarevok's last threat died in his throat as Imoen leapt onto his back. Her fighting knives drove deeply into both sides of his neck. Before he could react she gritted her teeth and viciously drove her left hand forward while she pulled her right hand backwards. The front of Sarevok's throat exploded outwards as a geyser of blood drenched Jeral while the second blade created an equally massive wound on the back of his neck. Imoen's attack nearly decapitated the large warrior and left her showered in his blood. Massive wounds on each side of his neck showed the tremendous damage she had done. No one could survive such a devastating injury.

Sarevok spit up blood as he dropped to his knees. Imoen walked around to face the warrior and drove both blades into the top of his skull. Wordlessly he fell backwards folding in on himself as he collapsed to the ground. Imoen watched impassively as the blood pooled around Sarevok in an ever widening circle. When the blood lapped at the toes of her boots she slid them backwards and turned to face Jeral. Jeral looked up into Imoen's blood drenched face. Her wide eyes and cherubic smile served as a disturbing contrast to the horrific gore that covered her face, arms and torso.

"You are sooooooooo lucky I was around to save your skin. Man, did he kick your arse or what? Lucky you did not face him in the tournament of the Watchers back in the spring."

Imoen rifled through her pockets and handed Jeral a blue potion vial.

"This is my last one, it won't fix all of your wounds but it should keep you alive until Yeslick can heal you."

Jeral pushed it away.

"Alatosi needs this more than I do. Give it to her."

Imoen's smile vanished from her face as she stared at Jeral.

"Alatosi is gone Jeral, Sarevok killed her. There is nothing any of us can do for her."

Nodding Jeral unstoppered the vial and gulped down the contents. Warmth drifted through his body and the pain lessened slightly. The flow of blood from his side continued but at a greatly reduced flow. Jeral realized that he would probably survive to see another day. As he started to relax he lay back down on the cold hard ground and allowed himself to slowly drift off into a blessed unconsciousness. Gorion was avenged, Sarevok lay dead, and that was enough for now.

A soft but insistent voice was calling his name. Was it angels calling him to the afterlife? Jeral did not think he was near death but maybe he was incorrect, maybe he was dying. The angels were really persistent however, and sort of mean sounding. And now the angels were kicking him and hard.

"Jeral. Jeral. Jeral. JERAL WAKE UP NOW!"

Jeral sat up with a start and cried out in pain as he grasped his side.

"What is going on?"

Imoen just pointed towards Sarevok's corpse. She had made an effort to wipe some of the blood and gore off her face and now the red contrasted sharply with the pale white of her face. Imoen was as scared as he had ever seen her.

Jeral started as he stared at Sarevok's near headless corpse. The body and the blood around it glowed with an intense yellow light that matched the glow from Sarevok's eyes when he was angry.

Imoen held her fighting knives at the ready as she stared at the glowing corpse. The light surrounding Sarevok's body started pulsing as if it was moving in time with Jeral's own heartbeat. The siblings watched as the body started to dissolve into the very ground as if Sarevok's entire being was returning to the underworld. After a few moments nothing remained of Sarevok but his battered suit of armor, a dented helm, and massive war blade. Ever last scrap of flesh, every last drop of blood, it was all gone.

"Jeral, what just happened?"

"I think Bhaal just reclaimed what belonged to him."

"That's impossible. Bhaal is dead."

"Impossible or not Imoen, your eyes saw what they saw same as mine. Every last scrap of the man has disappeared. Even the blood on you, all of it, is gone."

Imoen quickly looked at her hands and her tunic and realized that she showed no evidence of having nearly cut a man's head off. She was cleaner than when she entered the caverns.

"Ok. I saw it but I do not believe it. How will we prove that we killed him if there is no body?"

"Imoen, receiving payment from the Grand Dukes is the least of my concerns. We are weak and few in numbers and in a dark cavern surrounded by who knows how many undead. I just hope we can survive until Lord Belt and his forces arrive."

Day 109

Jeral sat up in bed as Lord Belt and Lady Janneth entered the room. Jeral realized that he was naked underneath the covers and he quickly pulled the blankets up to his chin.

Lord Belt and Lady Janneth both chuckled at the bard's modesty. Lord Belt tossed a heavy coin purse onto the bed and clapped him heavily on the shoulder.

"Glad to see you up and around lad. We feared you might not survive your wounds. Our healers had a time patching up your ribs and your face. But yet now I look upon you and there is not a mark anywhere. You do not look like a man who has fought to stay alive for the past season."

"Yes I must say your constitution is remarkable. The strongest dwarf would not recover as rapidly as you. Very curious."

Jeral ignored Lady Janneth's comments and nodded politely to Lord Belt.

"I thank you for your concern and the gold. Both are very much appreciated. Are the others recovering well?

"Ajantis and Dynaheir are still in bed recovering from their wounds and exhaustion but they will be fine. Yeslick continues to tend to their needs. Minsc and Niklos are up and about and they went shopping with Imoen. She wanted to buy some new clothes for the celebration in your honor."

"When is the celebration?"

"That will be in the evening three days hence. Lady Janneth and I will recognize you and your companions for their contributions towards the safety of the city. Hopefully they will have scrubbed all the blood off the floor in the coronation room by then."

Jeral choose not to dwell on that cheerful thought. "When will they bury Alatosi Lord Belt?"

"I do not know lad. Endar took her body with him when we returned to the city."

Day 112

"Lords and ladies I present the saviors of Baldur's Gate!" As Lady Janneth spoke those words the coronation room erupted in applause. Jeral raised his glass and drank deeply as watched his companions revel in the adulation. Imoen skipped up to Jeral and grabbed him by the arm.

"So we have really come up in the world. Started as heroes of Nashkel and now saviors of Baldur's Gate. Not too shabby."

"Well we have definitely come a long way in a short time that much is true."

"Don't be a downer Jeral. Sarevok is dead, Gorion is avenged and we are heroes. Even better we are rich heroes. The Dukes are allowing us to live in the Seven Suns estate for as long as we wish for free!"

"Well I hope they clean the place first."

"Of course. The place looks great. They have filled the larders and staffed the place with servants. Everyone else has already moved their equipment over there. Well everyone but Ajantis. He rides for Athkatla tomorrow morning to deliver his report to his Order. But let's face it that is no loss to us. We will have more fun without him. We are just waiting on you."

Day 119

Jeral's head was pounding as he staggered outside into the early morning sun. Yeslick was outside placing the last of his belongings into a small wagon. There were provisions on the wagon to last for months. Jeral walked up and patted Yeslick on the shoulder.

The dwarf turned and beamed at the disheveled looking bard.

"Good morning laddie. I am surprised you are standing after all the ale you drank last night. You must be part dwarf. Even Minsc is still unable to get out of bed. How is Imoen?"

"I looked in on her and Niklos this morning. They were both passed out in bed with a pool of vomit to keep them company."

"Ahhhhhhh it is not a party unless a dwarf can drive a human or two to vomit. Good times."

"Are you sure you have to leave?"

"It is time. There is nothing for me here but the reminder of my failures. As the last of my clan I intend to return to the mountains and search for the original home of my ancestors."

"Know that you have a friend for life Master dwarf. If I can ever be of service you need only ask."

Jeral embraced the dwarf in a hug and lifted him off the ground. Jeral watched the dwarf mount up his wagon and slowly make his way out of sight. Once Yeslick was out of sight Jeral staggered back inside and passed out in bed vowing never to attempt to match drinks with a dwarf again.

Day 180

Jeral stood and raised a glass as he toasted the happy couple. They held the wedding in the Burning Bandit and it was a colorful affair. Imoen positively glowed in a shimmering white and silver dress tailored by Madame Clarisse. Niklos looked handsome and thrilled to be marrying Imoen as he stood next to her. Some of the finest nobility in the city had turned out to attend the event of the season and they mingled with most of the leading members of the thieves' guild. All had agreed to a truce for the evening. The Flaming Fist and the guild both agreed to suspend operations for the night. Jeral spied Lord Belt and Endar Sai chatting quietly in a corner and he approached the pair.

Lord Belt smiled and lifted a large mug of ale in greeting. "Ahhhhh good Jeral. So nice to see you on this fine evening. The last day of summer is always an auspicious time to hold a wedding. It omens well for the happy couple's future."

Jeral smiled tiredly as he nodded in reply.

"They look very happy together. I am glad that Imoen has some happiness and a future after all of this darkness and despair."

"That is behind all of you Jeral. The city is safe. Sarevok and his followers are dead. The threat of war is removed. All is as it should be."

Jeral did not want to mention that the dreams had returned to him within a week of Sarevok's death. Dark dreams that foretold of blood and death on a massive scale. Dreams that told Jeral he must win or die. Their return had also come with the return of his dark gifts. Suddenly he could heal his wounds again, and he had gained other powers as well.

"May I speak to Endar privately for a moment please?"

Lord Belt nodded and strode off to refill his mug. Jeral sat down and stared at Endar. After a few moments Endar looked uncomfortable.

"Jeral I know you are angry with me but you did not know Alatosi as I did. I honored her wishes. Her body was burned in a pyre on the beach and her ashes were scattered to the winds. She is with her Gods and her people. She lived well and from what I was told she died very well."

"She saved my life and I never got to thank her or even say goodbye. My last words to her were not kind."

"Do not worry about that. She valued actions over words and your actions were always true. I am sure she knew how much you valued her and appreciated all her actions. She was very fond of you and all of your companions as well. She did say that if you continued to train you could be an exceptional swordsman."

"I have trained almost every day since I recovered from my injuries. Lord Belt provides me sparring partners daily."

"I know, he provides me regular updates on your progress. Keep training, for I fear your life will not be a quiet one."

Endar drained his glass and then flashed a smile.

"I bet I know something you do not. Alatosi really liked your ranger friend Minsc. She even bedded him a few times."

Jeral blushed at the intimate gossip and looked at Endar in surprise. "With Minsc? Really?"

"She had a thing for warriors and she and Minsc hit it off."

Jeral smiled at the thought. "Who knew Minsc even understood such things?"

"I suspect Minsc understands a lot more than people think."

Day 270

"Tell me again why we are traveling in the dead of winter?" Imoen was clad in a long coat of wolf pelts. She had sewn on patches of brightly colored fabrics in spots on the long coat since she was unwilling to ever dress plainly. The swirling wind blew the light dusting of snow into their faces and made if feel even colder than it was.

"It is time to leave. I want to return to Candlekeep." What Jeral did not add was that lady Janneth had encouraged him to leave the city as soon as possible. Two days prior she had called him to the castle and announced that he was one of the Bhaal children mentioned in the prophecies. As such he was no longer welcome in her city. When Jeral announced to the others he was leaving he was surprised that Minsc, Dynaheir, Niklos and Imoen all agreed to join him. Minsc and Dynaheir had plans to return home so Candlekeep was the first stop on their way. Imoen and Niklos planned to travel the realm so they would winter in Candlekeep with Jeral and then start their travels together.

Jeral and the others mounted up on their horses and rode towards the gate. Two dozen mercenary guards rode with them and teams of oxen pulled four large covered wagons with sufficient supplies and tentage to see them comfortably through the worst of weather.

Day 275

The storm raged on unabated. They would not travel today. Minsc said that the storm was unlike anything he had ever seen. Said that the storm did not seem natural. Despite the storm everyone seemed content to lay under their pile of furs and sleep. The wine at dinner was exceptionally fine and very strong. Jeral slept fitfully and dreamt that they were under attack. Their attackers moved with inhuman speed and glided across the snow on a bitterly cold moonless night. Jeral could smell blood and realized that he never smelled anything in his dreams.

Jeral sat up in bed with a start and reached for the blades nestled under the furs. With a start he realized they were gone.

"Tsk tsk tsk. One must be more careful on the road pretty one."

Jeral looked up to see a beautiful young woman standing in front of him. Squinting in the darkness Jeral could barely see that she was dressed all in white, her black hair framed a delicate pale face. With a start Jeral realized that she was holding his short swords in her hands and was twirling them incredibly fast. Moving faster than Jeral thought possible she started forward and pushed him down into the furs. She tossed his blades aside and wrapped her delicate hands around his neck and started to squeeze. Despite her delicate features her hands gripped his neck in an unbreakable vice. Jeral focused all his strength but dulled as he was from the wine he could not break free from her cold iron grip. Jeral's heart started beating faster as he struggled for air. The pain welling up in his chest was only matched by that in his head. Jeral 's last thought was of a voice inside of him taunting him as a weakling.

'_You must embrace your gifts should you wish to survive and protect those closest to you.' _

The darkness overcame Jeral and he yielded to his attacker.

END

_Well that is it for Disappointment. I hope you liked it. Stay tuned for the next volume as I take on Baldur's Gate II. I will probably spend some time cleaning this story up while I also work on the new one. Thanks to all who made it to the end. _


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